


unanchored hearts produce (revived) revolutionaries

by Mistropolis



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Vicious Fusion, Developing Friendships, Found Family, Multi, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2019-09-04 23:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistropolis/pseuds/Mistropolis
Summary: There are plot-holes and gaps in logic mapped everywhere in this universe, but as far as Neku is concerned, none of them should entail gaining super-powers at the price of a near-death experience, or getting people who are weird and complicated and full of colours threatening to splash all over the monochromatic palette of his life.But once you are done with the deepest trench you can find, it's time to hold your head high into the air again.





	1. nagatsuki - the long year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for:
> 
>   * implied eating disorder (it's less of an actual eating disorder, but there is a description of a case of implied anorexic tendencies, though it is only for one scene and neku already Gets Better in later chapters. skip the second scene)
>   * non-descriptive finger gore (the two paragraphs between "... buried with me" and "Letting his own noise cascade out of his own body...")
>   * discussion of the death of a loved one (it's a twewy fic so)
>   * descriptive near-death scene (blunt trauma, you can choose to skip the entire scene and not miss anything in doing so)
> 


It has been two weeks since Neku has last picked up a pencil. His sketchbook stays static on its place, on the top of his mini-bookshelf on the bedside table, tiny dustbunnies starting to gather on it.

Today’s Monday, and Neku’s struggling to move his limbs, his body off the bed. The drawn-down curtains did nothing to cheer his mood up, keeping all the sunlight out of his reach. The outside holds no tantalizing potential for Neku to explore, to tap into or to draw from.

Well, considering all that has happened, maybe that’s for the best.

⸶

“Neku, have you been eating properly at all? You know you can’t go to school on such an empty stomach.”

Neku forks down the sausage that makes up the smile on the breakfast plate, deliberately poking holes and chopping it up into unchewable bits. “I will be fine.”

Mother continues cutting up the carrots into small edible bits and shoves them all into the salad bowl next to her. “ You are not going to do much of anything if you go that long without energy—”

“I said I will be fine.”

Mom shifts her attention from the carrot bits to Father, a quiet request for assistance in her glances. Father puts down the newspaper for once.

“But, Neku, you haven’t been eating breakfast properly since—”

“Since two days ago, because on Saturdays and Sundays I don’t have to go back to school. That’s makes two days without having breakfasts. I’ll live.”

Mother stops chopping the carrots. “Neku, you know you can’t just keep repressing all of this, right? Your dad and I are willing to listen to you, just like the many other friends from school and—”

“Correction. I only had one friend from school that listened to me. _Had_ one and not _have_ one, because they are dead.” Neku grinds the fork downward a little harder and all the other food on the plate melt to unappetizing bits. “Time for me to go to school. See you later.”

Then he shoves the chair back and walks back upwards into his room, pretending in that span of a minute that he couldn’t hear his mom sobbing or his dad sighing, wondering if he put his headphones onto his bed again.

⸷

  
_The first time Neku has ever seen one of CAT’s murals, it was like an angel flying down to the mortal realm just for him, planting a gentle kiss that he could cherish for forever._

_“How is it? I know you will love it!” They said, with the brightest smile Neku has ever seen anyone muster up. They were flailing their arms around, like excited ten-year-olds do when they have ice cream for dessert. “I’ve been trying to track down their works since a whole week ago, and I finally found it here! I can’t believe it’s so close and right next to us!”_

_Neku’s speechlessness did nothing to impede either child’s excitement. If anything, they were both gazing at the mural now, eyes filling up with wonder the kind they have never quite known closely._

_“Thank you so much for taking me here today.”_

_“Anytime! I’d love just both of us spending time out here watching for stuff like that.”_

_Neku would have loved to add that he would enjoy anything, as long as that something relates to just spending time with Them. But he had no courage for letting the world know that, so he will save that up in his mind for now._

⸶

Neku opens the sketchbook with the graffiti designs and silently counts up how long it takes for people to crowd around with teasing, degrading tongues. He turns off the music on his headphones, resigning himself to the noise outside for once.

From a younger age, he has expressed an acute interest in drawing things down, often in messy sketches with undefined lines and sloppy colouring. When he started out with that he was lauded by teachers and classmates alike. Nowadays his classmates are just going to rip them up at sight.

Saying so would discredit those who tried their best to make him feel like shit instead however, those whose hands never touch the papers but ruined the sketches by viewing them with their disdainful eyes and commented the most terrible things, just like now, as they put their filthy hands just inches away from the sketchbook on his desk.

“ _Why do you keep bothering to draw all these boring shit? You know nobody is going to like it,_ ” Says an ugly jock who has once tried to get Neku to join their basketball team. Neku has flung graffiti paint on his face as a no.

“ _Maybe you should pick something else as a hobby! Drawing all these all day is not going to make you popular!_ ” Says a girl with pink-dyed hair and loads of accessories hanging around her neck, a teasing smile with enough venom to put a rattlesnake to shame.

“ _Sa—Sakuraba-kun, everyone else in the class thought you are, like, uh, very not fun. Please be mindful for all of our mental health and just stop! Thank you!_ ” Mumbles a bespectacled kid who has a torn encyclopedia with him, obviously some kind of nerd who had gotten picked by the other two to join in making him feel like shit.

Neku gives them the same apathetic stare he has always given, and the trio back off, making snipes behind his back as they did so.

If he could be bothered to do so, Neku might actually compile a whole list of all the things they have said about his sketches. Sketches, not art pieces, because he has quitted whatever art club still exists out there, but that’s beside the point.

If he starts compiling now, it could most certainly tip the scales against the times They have commended him on his art.

⸶

Neku cranks up the volume on the MP3 player and noises plunge right through him, filling him up with nothing but noise and more noise as he walks out onto the street with nothing else on him and no words spoken to him heard.

The streets outside of the apartment usually consist of cars blaring their horns, people’s barely-heard conversations with each other and hawkers yelling whatever that could to draw potential customers. Neku didn’t have to let those noises in this time though; he has no space to let in more, after all.

The way Neku looks at it, he has been doing everyone else in the world a grand favour by refusing to talk. About anything, about life, about the world, about his world, anything. The noise inside him continues to buzz to a steady rhythm.

He’s really heading nowhere at the moment, just feet taking him across the bustling streets of Shibuya with no known destination—

( _he doesn’t have any other destination (no he doesn’t) he never has he knows no wisteria flowers knows nothing he has to take back_ )

—sometime it is quite the preferable mode to operate really, just limbs moving along to pursue whatever purposes they could find while his mind takes a back seat, nesting comfortably in the hailstorm of his noise.

And his noise only, because he is gradually mastering the art of hearing nothing, taking nothing in.

⸷

_When they summoned him to the school medical room they were all stern-faced, hands on their laps with faces darkened by storms._

_As for himself, Neku couldn’t really imagine what he himself was looking like. He couldn’t even decipher any part of it when he caught a glimpse of his reflection from the window to the side. Nothing makes sense._

_Father broke first._

_“So, Neku, you know why you are here.”_

_Neku watched the second-hand on the clock leap, leap, leap far far away from its original position only to end up there again after a minute. This conversation was shaping up to be just like that. “I don’t, not really.”_

_“We came here to talk to you since we heard about the… unfortunate news from yesterday,” The other man took up his glasses, taking up a notepad and put it onto his laps. Adjust his glasses a little. What a stereotypical therapist._

_“Unfortunate news? What unfortunate news?”_

_Father and the therapist exchanged glances not-so-subtly, and the therapist coughed. “Right. We should work on this first, the understanding and acceptance of what has happ—”_

_“I don’t need to do that. I know what happened. I know they passed away.”_

_Father let out a sigh that almost sounded like relief. “That, that’s true. Listen, son, I just want you to know that we are all here for you, okay? No matter it is that you want us to know or do, we will—”_

_“Why do you all feel the need to tell me all this? What things do I have to work through here?” Neku’s flat face quirked up, contorted muscles rearranged to form a smile. “They have gone away to a better place, isn’t that what you want me to say?”_

_The two men shared subtler, more confused glances with each other. Father spoke up first again. “That, that’s right Neku. So, since you do have a rather good grasp on the reality, will you—”_

_“No. That’s really all I know and all I feel. I let out what I think and feel already, dad.” Neku stood up abruptly. The door to the outside of the medical room has never been that far away. “If you will please excuse me, I think I ought to head back to my class.”_

⸶

“Hey, isn’t that Phones right there?”

Neku puts an unconscious hand on the right side of the headphones.

“ _Jeez, don’t you ever take those headphones off and listen to whatever other people have to say?_ ” It doesn’t take looking back to know the classmates he has been forced to see every day, hear the noise of every day.

“ _Seriously, do you know how annoying it is that everyone told us how you lost a friend and you gotta be coddled from hell to back so you don’t get your stupid feelings hurt? Don’t you ever think about how hard it is for us?_ ” Neku’s pace quickens. No destination comes out of the mist for him to reach. Everyone has something to say, something to contribute to the noise, and their voices melt and together form a greater noise.

“ _Maybe if you learn to deal with grief like anybody else would and stop being a dramatic little piece of shit queen then none of this has to happen!_ ” Neku is slamming into different pedestrians now, but he doesn’t stop, not even when the bruises on his arms are screaming a cacophony of pain at him.

“ _Take your stupid headphones off and listen to us!_ ”

Neku bites back a scream, a scream that has been building inside him since the first imaginary sibilant seeps into his waking mind. Or at least he thinks he is, can barely see through the strained efforts it takes him to control himself.

He’s in the Udagawa Back Streets. Sometimes it just feels like things can’t get any worse, and then it does.

⸶

Neku touches on the alabaster wall of the streets and wills himself not to claw its paint off.

The paint is still settling in, and Neku’s right hand has come away with a little amount of white paint in his fingernails. He wipes them onto the posters on the wall next to it.

Neku takes a small look at this wall. The wall remains its utter black as before, still plastered with posters everywhere, posters about this one shitty band and this one shitty clothes brands. It remains as ugly as before, but nothing is wrong about it.

Beneath this pale white wall, the murals are most certainly ruined by now, the white paint too steeped into its bones to have survived. Even if it’s not, how many years is it going to take to recover its beauty as it once was?

Neku clenches his hands tight, nearly to the point of drawing blood from the crescent indents on his palms. Maybe he should actually bleed and smear the blood onto the walls. To leave a mark, to appease Their soul, to ruin the further commercialisation of his ever smaller world, he doesn’t know, but the reasons are still many, and pain is always tempting.

⸷

_Neku was having a reprieve near the Udagawa Back Streets._

_As its name indicates, the back streets have nothing particularly in its vicinity, only a rather narrow passageway where you can pass by. Sometimes you can see a store here or there, but the terms of rentals are often unattractive enough that months after the new stores opened they will close and rental ads will overflow on its door again._

_It is a realm of utter silence, utter solace._

_The only thing that really quite stay constant is this small arena behind the wall, and a greenhouse periodically opened for public view. Sometimes, if you are lucky enough to be insomniac and wandering off to different corners of Shibuya, you might find bands or lonely kids atop the stage, singing and playing their instruments and letting all the tension and loneliness in their hearts flow out in time with the music._

_They have really only brought Neku to the back streets once to look at the murals, but somewhere along the way it just becomes their unspoken meeting point for everything. Maybe the quiet of it is alluring enough to keep them coming back, but there’s no doubt the back streets are theirs, and theirs only._

_Sometimes Neku would take a small break sitting in an open-space restaurant where he watches the people of Shibuya walk across each other. Watches the way the people hold themselves, talk with each other, act like as if the world is still their oyster or if they have already known they’re the world’s oysters._

_Today he’s going to take in the silence of the back streets. Enjoy the moment should include enjoying silence as much as music._

_A muffled beep. That should be a message on his phone. Neku takes it out and reads._

_"when and where to meet today?"_

_He allowed a small smile to creep onto his face._

_“Today at CAT mural 3:30 pm?”_

_Another message. Neku's smile tucks up higher._

_“Sure.”_

⸶

The noise of the construction site has a unique annoyance that can only be attributed to it. Even before the murals, the streets have some forms of life breathed into it by the teens who came here to escape the suffocating music of Shibuya, those who don’t want to go along with the mainstream flow taking refuge here in this lone island of a street.

But now a mall is due to be built here. A construction company imminent on swallowing up this lone island and spitting out yet another papier-mache copy of a capitalist landmark.

Neku resists the urge of tearing the construction panel down and takes out several lockpicks.

He has no genuine experience with lockpicks—the most he has is probably watching some dumbass kids picking the locks of convenience stores and whatnot, but a metal gate into a construction site would be infinitely trickier. He will have to figure out a lot before he could go in.

 _Thud, thud, thud,_ the construction site drones on, drills drilling deep into the dirt that once held the dreams of teenagers who don’t know any better.

 _Ping, ping, ping,_ goes the insignificant noises of a desperate kid trying to crack the lock on the gate.

⸷

_“Why do you think they bury the dead into the dirt when they passed away?”_

_Neku tried to give this a serious thought. “Why they bury the dead? As opposed to?”_

_They shook their head. “No, no smartass answer today, Neku. I mean it as a serious question. I’ve been thinking about it myself too. Why bury the dead? Why bother doing that? Is there something specifically honourable, or any other tradition-related reasons for burials? Now, of course, I do understand it’s tradition—”_

_“Um,” Eager to show off and not to lag behind, Neku started fumbling around for words. “Maybe it’s something they started doing back in the past when they still don’t have any other method for handling the dead?”_

_“Uh uh, that sounds like a practical reason, but I was kind of thinking of a more sentimental reason.” They both rounded the corner from the wall, and instead of leaving the back streets like the two of them usually do, They took a turn left instead._

_“We should go to the park today.”_

_“A park?” Neku stared out to the small performance arena. “There isn’t a park here, not really.”_

_“Anywhere’s a park if you try hard enough.”_

_Neku followed Them into the park, mind flimsy and unbelieving, but the faith in Them rang louder than any other tunes in his head, so keeping on following he did._

_“Sometimes, I think people bury the dead because they loved them too much,” They have continued saying, as They picked their way through the arena seats and into the further edges of the small area close to the streets. “But at the same time, they understand that they can’t defy the laws of nature. So they buried their dead loved ones under the dirt, in the delusions that the corpse might have not rotted, might spring out again once more.”_

_Neku found himself nodding along to that. “It’s possible. Though I think people should have been smart enough to know dead people can’t wake up again, right?”_

_“Maybe so, maybe not,” They led Neku to a stop at the small greenhouse, ironically framed by several unhealthy streets planted around the street corners. There’s a small smile on their lips. “I’d like to think that when I died one day, I want to at least have the liberty of knowing where I’m buried.”_

_Neku smiled at that statement. “Me too. I’d like to be buried here.”_

_“Here? The Neku I know would aim for something better.”_

_“This is already the best I could see around here.” Neku gestured around the area, then turned back to look at Them. “This is the place I love the most. Because I spent all my time with you here.”_

_Red tinged Their cheeks, and They looked down, fingers fiddling around each other. “Ah, Neku, that sounds… so sweet of you to say. Thank you.”_

_“You know I mean it.”_

_“I know, I know.”_

_The two friends walked back the way they came, laughter still tinting their lips as they made their way back into the noisy streets of Shibuya. Once a conversation is over, Neku figured They don’t spend too much thinking about it, but Neku isn’t Them._

_Neku still thinks about all that. About death. About a burial into the earth._

⸶

Neku gives the lock a few more tugs before officially giving up with an exasperated huff. He can try again later, that’s true, but it’s not ideal for him to keep holding this off. One day or another he has to get this done, or else he can watch that small pot of wisteria wilt and vanish completely.

Neku doubts if the greenhouse is still standing at all. Or even the trees standing sentinel alongside it. But he can still be patient and wait, wait until an opportunity presents itself. One of these days, those people will slip.

Sunset bleeds into night rapidly, and the sounds of machines stopping ring loud and clear following the shutdown. Loud cheers from the construction workers for a day’s work done.

Neku watches the gate opened, and a small stride takes him just a little closer to the opening gates.

The procession of the construction workers is long and tedious to watch, though not without its own reward. Neku watches with grim satisfaction at the blank faces and blankly happy faces they all made, the lack of a composure they truly display, truly use to reflect themselves. But most satisfying of all is to see the person responsible for locking the gate looks to be quite woozy already. Alcohol perhaps?

Alcohol or not, a slip is a slip and an opportunity is an opportunity, and at long last Neku is going to reap it for all its worth. He takes out the pair of white gloves he has been preparing for this moment.

The man drops the key to Neku’s front as he finishes locking up the gates, and Neku rushes forward and gives the man a fake set of keys.

“Thank you there, young man.” The man hiccups, not a single moment spent wondering why he has just encountered a young boy wearing white gloves, as he turns back to greet his fellow workers, heading to whatever pleasure they were chasing next, while Neku retrieves the real set of keys from the ground.

Again, genuine theft like just now technically isn’t Neku’s Plan B; it’s more like Plan Z or something even far more after than that. But the many other lockpicks and sneaking-ins of Plan B to Plan Y had been used again and again to no avail, so Plan Z it was.

Neku wanders back to the back streets, waiting for the workers to disappear, then he turns off his phone.

⸷

_“Neku? Do you draw flowers much?”_

_Neku looked back at his own sketchbook, flipping through it for a bit. “Not really. I don’t find flowers very interesting.”_

_“You don’t find flowers very interesting? That’s weird.” They gave a small laugh, and even though the tease wasn’t intentional, Neku had felt his face burn at the remark._

_“Flowers are rather wonderful. They usually only exist for such a short time, and yet they bear the responsibility of passing on the next generation. And they are all so uniquely beautiful in their own ways too.”_

_Neku flipped to a new page in his sketchbook and took a pencil to sketch out a small outline of a pot. It’s a difficult task, trying to draw while sitting precariously at the metal railings, with Them peeking down from time to time._

_He drew a pair of long lines above the pot, stretching upwards and upwards until he reached the top of the page accidentally, pencil scratching the graphite line off at the edge of the paper with an unsatisfying_ swoosh _._

_“Ah! Now I gotta erase this.” Neku fake-pouted, and fake-punched Them on Their arm. They laughed at that again. Neku didn’t remember if They were always like that._

_“Anyway, now you know how I feel about flowers.”_

_“And you know how I feel about them too, and the fact that I hate them.”_

_“I’ve been thinking about getting a potted plant for my house. Brighten the mood and all that.” They got off the railings along the street corners, staring deeply into the greenhouse’s grainy glass walls. Today the public viewing session is closed, so instead of gaping and looking at all the plants with adoration shining in Their eyes, They were gazing at the greenhouse with frustrated sighs rolling of Their tongue instead._

_Neku didn’t like looking at his only friend like that._

_“Hey? If you really like all those flowers so much,” Neku jumped down back onto the asphalt road next to him, careful not to drop the sketchbook he cherished with every fibre of his being as he raised it towards Their face. “I can draw you one anytime. And not just sketching one too; I will draw this one seriously, full-coloured, just for you.”_

_They let a surprised note out, staring down at his sketchbook with a musing look on Their face. “… Thank you, Neku.”_

_“You got it anytime. What flower do you have in mind?”_

_At the question, perplexion jumped across Their face. Maybe because They didn’t think Neku would make such an offer. They looked upwards into the sky, repeating the question to Themself idly. “What flower do I have in mind… ?”_

_They walked back out towards the Udagawa Back Streets, past the black wall full of laughable posters, past the crowded Tipsy Tole Hall, and They still haven’t come up with an answer._

_At long last, when they have walked past 104 to the downtown apartment sector, ever closer to the spot where they separate, They suddenly look back at Neku with an exhilarated smile. “I know it! I know the flowers I do have in mind for you to draw.”_

_Neku shrugged, a pococurante smirk on his face as he drew slightly farther away from Them. “Huh? You just got it? Um-hmm, so sorry to say this, but I’ve long drawn my offer back.”_

_“That isn’t fair! You never mentioned a time limit!” They made a wild grab for Neku’s sketchbook, but Neku raised it high above Their head, skipping further away from Them in the process. Before They could get a stable footing to try to grab for them again, Neku started running, with Them close at his feet._

_The two children ran and ran, windchime-like laugh ringing in the air and they were both happy, or at least as happy as twelve-year-olds could envision, until they both tired from the running about._

_Neku raised the sketchbook and pen up again. “There there, I’m not running away, okay? Write the name of that flower or something now if you like.”_

_They coughed a little, no doubt from running too much, but there were laughter and smiles mixed into it too. Neku has no idea how They managed the arcane arts of such things. “Alright. Now you’re going to listen loud and clear, and you will finally know the secret to my heart!”_

_“It’s your favourite flower, not your credit card number.”_

_“It’s somewhat closer to my heart than my nonexistent credit card number, I assure you.” They gave a dramatic big sigh and smiled again. They probably could never run out of smiles to give Neku. “The flower I had in mind is wisteria.”_

_“Wisteria?”_

_“Yeah, wisteria. They symbolize new births, and stuff like serious devotion to a person or cause too.” They look a little to the right of Neku, as if They have gained a sudden interest in whatever Neku has held in that direction. “Annnyway! Now you know! I’m expecting a still life of a wisteria two days later!”_

_“Excuse me, this isn’t a goddamned assignment now!”_

_“Sure, sure!”_

⸶

Neku stumbles his way into the heart of the construction site.

He’s starting to regret only bringing gloves on his hands and his trusty headphones around his ears, because all the other parts of his body are assaulted by a constant storm of sand flung into the air from time to time. It’s only the beginning of autumn, and yet the breezes are already eager to grow stronger, eager to blow everything over, including Neku’s hopes of seeing the greenhouse.

The construction site can only be summed up in one sentence; sand and sand and sand and more sand, featuring a few construction machines, whatever they are called. There isn’t even a skeletal shell of the mall inserted into the dirt yet, only holes into various spots where the foundations should go into. Some of them are barely even dug in just yet. With that said though, there’s a collection of metal beams planted in one vertical direction to the farther edge of the site. Around where the greenhouse is located.

But there’s no grainy windows of the greenhouse. Not a single trace of greenery around.

Neku’s headphones aren’t working, phantom of the drills’ noises continues to thunder through his head, and Neku is seeing every colour other than purple in his periphery.

He walks further into the construction site, the part where it used to be the performance arena. The spot where they once cheered indie bands, where they have booed lots of sell-outs off the stage too. If Neku attempts to dig through the dirt, he might still see the deeply imprinted outline of the stage.

And now, only a patch on the blueprints to put more foundation beams in.

Neku wills himself to stop drawing circles into the sand and walks up to where the metal beams are stuck into the mud.

There’s barely a concrete outline of a building there, but they do have the basic shape of what is possibly a concrete girder, a shallow foundation pillar supporting whatever skyscraper shall be planted here. There’s an attempt to lay down bricks at the ground already, as if the previous rectangular ones are not fancy enough for them, the ones they use are all shaped vaguely like a heart. Somehow, the trees are still there—or more accurately, there’s only one survivor, tightly bound with ropes on the outside to prevent it from falling.

It is at this point that Neku really starts to miss the familiar angles of the greenhouse, the darkened windows with darkened shades of green emanating from the inside out. He walks around the metal beams, careful not to accidentally step into the small gorges of sand not yet laid with bricks.

He crouches down and starts digging.

(This is no place to put into the dirt what you intend to use to honour Th—)

Digging around the dirt is not a concept that has ever spawned in Neku’s mind; in fact, looking at his own actions, he is rather sure this is the last thing that should be on his mind. But he starts digging nonetheless. He takes off the white gloves and starts digging into the dirt, hands scooping sand and more sand until they meet resistance in the form of concrete. So the ground has never been cleanly peeled off, and yet Neku keeps on digging.

⸷

_“I don’t want to sound weird, but, I don’t really think burying the dead is that much of a good idea.”_

_They stopped writing into their homework, looking back at Neku with renewed interest. “And why is that?”_

_“Like? After people passed away and they are buried, doesn’t that mean those things will disappear into the dirt and decompose into nothing? That isn’t such a great thing to happen, right?” Neku continues trying to perfect the curve of a petal on the wisteria bouquet in his sketchbook. “When you think about it like that, I just feel like it’s a better idea to keep an urn of ashes instead if that’s the case.”_

_They seemed to be giving Neku’s idea some thoughts, twirling the pencil in Their hand one, two, three times. “When I die, I want everything I’ve ever considered precious buried with me.”_

⸶

Neku has nearly upturned another brick before he slams his fists into the ground and his bleeding knuckles finally stop him. It was a begrudging pause, like a reprieve he never wants to take, and he’s considering digging in again.

His fingernails hit yet another brick and Neku screams, screams into the wind rustling through the site like ghosts.

Letting his own noise cascade out of his own body into the world is a sacrilege to his own holy doctrine, and yet he continues, and with every modicum of his noise surging out of him, his mind vacates, the booming rhythm of his heart the only thing he could hear.

Neku lies down flat against the ground, head propped against a cart storing a pile of bricks the workers have yet to put into the ground. The noise has left him entirely. The silence now almost feels eerie.

It’s also the only thing here that makes him feel a little bit of solace.

He didn’t have his phone turned on to check the time, but Neku is willing to bet it’s rather late now. Probably around nine. Definitely around the time Mother and Father will lose their minds trying to find him. With that said, Neku isn’t so ready for the noisy world out there again. Lying down here in the dirt, bloodied knuckles clenching tight to steady himself against falling his head down, this is the calmest Neku has felt in half a year. A pleasant breeze blows past, singing songs from the shuddering beams.

His hands are still smashed and not putting down any wisteria into the dirt, but still, Neku allows his mind to wander in the quiet terrain of the construction site. When all noise is derived from it, the construction site has an unspoken sense of beauty, with the machines completely frozen in inactivity, the rest stations for the workers looking more like haunted houses in the night.

There’s no noise here.

No noise lurking in the corner, no noise crowding around his neck and suffocating him. Truly, this is the world he would love with every fibre of his being given the opportunity—

A small _snap_ sounds off from the distance. The little bit of noise seems to have come somewhere overhead, leading a perturbed Neku to look up. But nothing seems to be wrong. The metal beams continue to stand and the site continues to be as silent as it has been the whole night, save for the arrhythmic sounds of Neku’s breaths and his heartbeats.

He still has to deal with his hands before he could go home. He has to go back and face reality after all. Maybe he could just go straight to the hospital. But shit, if that’s the case, he’d have to think up a reason that doesn’t mention him admitting he has manically slammed his hands against the ground and uprooted bricks, and definitely not while trails of his blood are still splattered all over the ground.

So now, Neku has to find something like a piece of cloth to wipe the blood off, then head to the hospital. Maybe if his classmates see him with his hands all smashed like that, they’d feel less pissed off about him, or even have a little bit of schadenfreude lining the crop of their pretended concerns. Maybe that would help him make them leave him alone. It’s just a little maybe, but the prospect of having zero noise halo Neku’s head is an idea that thrills him, a world where he could finally shut down all these noises.

Another _snap_. Neku didn’t pay mind to that this time. Sometimes when an idea fills up the entire mental space of a person, they might find it hard to make the idea go away. But Neku isn’t bothered by that, in fact he welcomes it, the endless wonders of a silent world where he need not suffer any noise, or can control what noise he would like to receive anytime, is such a blissful and euphoric idea, such a happy idea that makes him lie back down towards the cart a little more than he had.

A small brick from the cart drops down, crashing into a part of the foundation rooted in the metal beams above. One of the metal beams, previously an image of vertical perfection, now starts to slope to the side a little.

Neku’s eyelids threaten to clasp shut, but he isn’t a willing victim to the Sandman yet, not until his memory of this night can be completely preserved, bottled into a fine wine he can get drunk on every moment of his life—provided that he will like alcohol; at age fifteen, there’s simply no telling—or at least until the noises of this part of the city, the remnants of what once existed, could fill him up and help him shut it down, shut it down, shut everything down.

Yet another _snap_ sounds, and the ropes tied around the sick, heavy tree outside finally snaps, and the tree branches fall down, into the construction site, trapping Neku’s body in painful angles.

⸶

The pain comes in so fast, and Neku is left breathless, his entire body completely struck down and crushed under the weight of the branches and leaves. He could feel the wetness of blood dripping down his legs. The only uninjured part seems to be his head, with which he tries to make sense of the situation.

The sick tree has him completely pinned down. Such a ridiculous accident could occur in as prestigious and advanced a city as Shibuya? A stupid tree drawing blood out of a helpless kid?

That drunk worker. Those people cheering uproariously as if they are all having fun instead of working tediously away.

He tries to move his arms out from under the branches, before the erupting pain along them reminds him that they are equally, painfully fixed in places by the studded, sharp-edged barks, glinting off small traces of blood.

He doesn’t want to imagine the small trails turning into deluges.

Neku opens his mouth to scream for help.

“Pl… Please…” Pitiful whispers, hoarse and raspy like stones rapping against stones, are all carried off to nowhere by the wind. No matter how Neku strains himself to cry out his voice won’t reach outside of the wall, outside of the Udagawa Back Streets or the drivers speeding down the roads to the other side.

The pain is blinding him now. No one ever told him legs could fracture and hurt that badly.

Neku breathes in, two harsh fast breaths he holds in his lungs a little before releasing them into another cry of help. The wind continues to rustle. He attempts to move his head around to see better, but all he could achieve is looking slightly back to the pure white confines of the construction site.

Neku’s thoughts start to mute, lose colours, until it comes back to one thing.

_Shut it down shut it down shut it down shut it down._

⸷

_“In the end, I don’t think I can honour your wishes.”_

_Neku crouched down until his eye level faced right at the name engraved into the headstone._

_“But I can still try, I guess._

_“But like I’ve told you millions of times, I don’t want to get buried into the dirt when I die._

_“Listening to so many noises in this life is quite enough for me. I don’t need more when they visit my grave.”_

⸶

Neku starts laughing. It hurts to laugh, but the cackle just tears its way out of his lungs, an eerily comforting noise as Neku fights to stay conscious. He probably has lost all the blood in his legs now. He can’t feel his legs.

He can’t muster enough laughs from his heart. The silence overwhelms again.

Something sounding decidedly metal-like ricochets off to his left, and Neku strains to look up. Some panicked yellings farther off in the distance, too.

Neku tries to scream again, watching shadows materialize from the entrance of the construction site from the back streets, as to the other side a tall dark shadow plunges down, the shallow tip of it landing somewhere close to his heart—

⸶

Then he woke up.

⸶

“As long as you promise you won’t leak the fact that we have drunk workers in our construction site, you will receive no legal troubles with us regarding your… apparent attempted theft at our site.” The man pushes his glasses further up his face, as if in the worry that Father, standing at the other side, would finally release his balled fists upon him and smash the glasses first.

“Attempted theft? What kind of attempted theft have my son done to you?” Father makes wild gestures to his limp, not yet movable body. “You think an upstanding citizen like my son would be stupid enough to sneak into your construction site to steal, what, a few pieces of rubbles? Because he wants your stupid bricks?”

Neku involuntarily tenses at that. The blood left on them.

The representative merely sighs again. “Look, Mr Sakuraba, as long as you sign this and agree to that, we can act as nothing happened. We will even pay for his entire stay in the hospital and other extended therapies.”

“As if we will take advantage of tha—”

“Just sign it, dad.”

Father looks back down at him, mouth agape and momentarily losing all the fire it just held. “What do you mean? You nearly died!”

Neku blinks in confusion. He knows that. He will not soon forget the impact of the beam’s cold metal surface crushing his sternum and pushing blood and whatnot into his weakened lungs at that time, coinciding with the workers remembering to check the site again for some reasons. Maybe karma led them back.

If karma knows any better, they should’ve crushed enough of Neku’s bones to send him to immediate death.

Instead, he’s sleeping down here, with bandages all around his body like an idiot.

His fingers curl around, remembering slowly the shapes of a pen and sketchbook in their grasps.

“Just sign it. We can absolutely absolve him of all legal troubles. For sure.”

Father looks down at him, as if he doesn’t know this completely bandaged boy is his son.

“Alright.”

⸸

The room is quiet except for the beeping sounds of the medical machines and the gradually steady heartbeats thundering in Neku’s chest.

This is almost the paradise he wants. A place completely deprived of noise.

But there is still noise. In fact, the noise still comes from him.

_Shut it down shut it down shut it down._

He cringes. The thought is circulating again, as if somehow it could make any difference by appearing yet again. An embarrassing ideal otherwise not realized in the grand scheme of things.

It is around night time now, so that would mean the blinding lights ahead would at least be turned off sooner or later. That’s a small mercy Neku has come to learn of. The disappearance of those anxiety-inducing lights is a rare victory for all of the patients to savour.

Tonight, however, nobody seems to have remembered to do that.

Neku strains his neck to look further out to the corridor. Around this time, somebody should have come around to shut off all the lights, or at the very least adjusted the brightness lower to help them sleep. Yet, the same piercing whiteness persists even now, an intrusive existence.

Neku spiritually snorts. Better someone come along and shut it down already, or he’ll have to, despite the lack of movable limbs—

The lights outside and inside his room blink out.

Neku sits up abruptly, a shattering pain spreading down along his chest as he does so. But his eyes haven’t failed him or anything. The lights here did blink out.

But he didn’t see anyone coming in to turn his lights off. The switches have definitely not been touched.

What the fuck kind of world does he live in now. A world where he is telekinetic? What kind of sci-fi crap is that?

_Shut it down shut it down Turn it up turn it up turn it up_

Was it… Really his thoughts that turn the lights off?

He strains to sit up a little again, looking into the opposite room. The lights are still on and the patient inside is apparently reading a book.

He thought about that sound again, the triple-tempo sestina pulsing through his head.

 _Shut that down_.

The lights on that side vanish into darkness too. A curse explodes from that side, followed by another series of expletives and the sound of a book being thrown down the floor.

Neku listens in to that flow of noises ringing in his body still, the three words continuing to form, though it doesn’t take him long to recognize the other three flowing in as well, the _turn it up turn it up turn it up_.

The lights in that room flare back to life, and Neku watches with amusement the way the patient is scrambling to pick back up the book they have thrown down onto the ground, lodged in a corner near the IV machine.

He looks down at his hands, his still broken hands in amazement. He redirects his gaze towards the ceiling again then, at the lights in his own room, and thought of a switch being turned up, of things being switched on.

The lights flood the room again.

⸸

“Have you really been doing okay in there? I heard a few days ago some weird lighting accident happened. Did you really sleep well back there?”

Neku practises a small smile that looks just firm enough to belong to a recovered patient. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Just, I heard there’s something wrong with the electricity, that’s all.”

“That’s good at least.” Mother walks off, as if she’s finally attuned to the arcane arts of understanding when can a conversation could occur and realizing this isn’t one. “So, call me whenever you need, okay?”

“For sure.”

The second Mother closes the door, Neku gets to work.

He turns on the light—or rather, his newfound power does—and boots up the computer in the meantime. Though this new power—or something along the lines of that—can help him do menial tasks like saving the time to turn on electronics, who knows what other applications and bounding rules he’ll find?

Neku pokes his head out to the outside, idly watching the quiet streets outside. A picture perfect afternoon where nobody is bothering him like back in school, where he could sit quietly by himself while his power plays with the light switch. On off on off on off and on off again—

“Hey you! The fuck are you doing there?”

Neku stares down to the source of the voice. Had he not been vigilant enough that people just noticed? Before he could process that question, the caller yells again. “Hey! I’m talking to you! Who gives you the right to keep playing with that light in your room? Fuck off!”

Neku squints into the dimming sunlight at the guy, and notices the glint of the glass bottle in his hand at last. “Oh, it’s uh, it’s nothing. Nothing that’s bothering you, for sure, but if I did anything that—”

“You certainly fucked up a lot of shit that I don’t like!” The man takes another swing from the bottle. “Look at that stupid night! It was having a great day and now you just ruined it!”

“I was having a great sunset before your stupid face showed up.” Neku whispers to himself the weak retort before retreating back into his room, the computer having finally booted up. Neku’s fingers reach across the keyboard before another idea seeps in.

Neku pokes his head back out, staring down at the drunken man with an intensity, as if this small glare with no genuine anger would work anything.

Which it most certainly did, because the next second he could no longer hear anything.

Nothing. A complete, physical lack of sound. The man has gone silent, but so has the entire world, even the quiet breaths he takes and his jackhammering heartbeats. That disconcerts Neku a little, but also wakes up a maddening excitement inside of him.

“If whoever—or whatever—gave me this power earlier, I wouldn’t have to be half as annoyed as usual.” Neku heard himself thought, but not heard himself say. He reluctantly turns on his own hearing again, and with that the man’s desperate screaming comes back as well.

So he could turn off even his own physical sensory receptors. That’s cool. If only there’s something that could restrict his perceptions to only certain something and not everything though—

The verse rings through him again, and the man’s animated screaming stops, but everything else in the world, the wind and the bugs and the birds and his computer’s CPU quietly whirring away and Mother cooking up dinner—probably more fried rice—are still audible.

No freaking way.

But there is the way. The simple command of three words in his head, and the world bows down and hurries away to bid his will.

Neku turns back to the man again and, tired of toying only with his own perceptions, Neku turns off the man’s vocal cords.

The man is left clawing at his own throat now. Life is good.

⸶

“Sakuraba-kun, got up to any dumbass projects recently?”

Neku continues staring down at his phone screen, scrolling past several messages from Father, mostly enquiries on how well he is doing with an undercurrent of doubt regarding whether he has attempted theft back there. He frowns upon hearing the question in real time.

“I have things to do.” With the small announcement, he hauls his school bag with him into the crowd outside of school, all rushing back to their own respective homes.

Neku reaches for that mantra running through his veins, chanting it to himself quietly and smoothing the edges around its shape.

Despite the overabundance of people passing the same streets of Molco, they all disperse around him, their noise springing far out of his reach. Neku heaves a smirk-ish sigh to himself, taking wider strides to head back home as soon as possible.

Decreasing his presence in the crowd, a process in dulling the edges of other pedestrians’ peripheral senses so he could pass by, unseen and undisturbed, is one of the many other tricks Neku finds that he could pull with his power, even though pulling onto the senses continuously on as many people as in Shibuya does strain himself a lot.

Nevertheless, it’s still an easy choice between living in a world full of other people’s noises or living in a world of delectable silence.

“You honestly just don’t know how to listen to other people, do you?”

The question rushes at him like a strong gall, and this time he has no choice but to let go of the switches and turns back to the asker.

One more of those noisemakers from school. And an upperclassman, to boot.

“I’ve been yelling for you for ages. Don’t you ever even—”

Neku can try silencing one of his senses, but what good would that do except making him an even bigger target at school? “Whatever it is that you have to say, Miada-san, can you make it quick? I am in quite a hurry—”

“Absolutely no! I didn’t chase you all the way up here so you can complain to me about that, Sakuraba. Your useless fucking arse really oughta get a beating sometime—”

⸸

Neku didn’t know what exactly he has heard or did, but at the last words out of the upperclassman’s mouth, he panics, and he raises his arms and hears the snaps of several switches snapping downwards together.

And at the edges of his periphery, he saw a lanky girl in a red jacket and green skirts happily caprioling out of a small CD shop as the air around her starts _rippling_ , turning her into a squatting girl in green coats and dress, a small black cat doll manifesting in her embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the au setting is taken from the villains duology, of which the first book is titled "vicious". i tagged it as "vicious fusion" rather than "villains duology fusion" since the latter is a mouthful and actually less distinct/well-known than the former.
> 
> "so is this a sci-fi au or daily life kind of au" we will see!


	2. nagatsuki - a long way back above the air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for:
> 
>   * usage of a taser as an offensive weapon (tbh i'm not sure if this warrants a warning seeing it's rather unconventional but i'm warning just in case. located in the long last second scene)
>   * past character death (which is going to continue popping up A Lot seeing, again, this is twewy after all. pls do note that seeing as such i have tagged it in the fic and to be careful if that doesn't go your drift)
> 


Shiki retreats into a side alley between a shopping arcade and the CD shop she just came out of, desperately hoping no one has seen her until her eyes land on a boy with purple headphones, eyeing her direction with a shocked light in his eyes.

Shiki can recognize it. The way when people gape at her as she changes shapes and adopts a new person, or literally anything that she has allowed herself to become.

It was one of those very first times she has tried out shapeshifting, the arts of changing her appearance entirely into someone else, _something_ else. Inexperience at that time means that she wasn’t sensitive or knowledgeable enough as to where she could do it without people noticing, but she has since then grown and learnt better, understood how not to let anyone know her abilities.

And yet, right without her own knowledge of if she has turned off the power, she has caught a kid staring at her with some sort of shock that says he doesn’t find her features shockingly attractive like people usually do, but rather that he must have seen how she—

But how can it be? She hasn’t let that threads around her break for the longest of time already.

Then Shiki looks down and Nyantan is right in her embrace again.

The boy is trying to dodge attacks from some big guy—who definitely looks like an upperclassman adept in the arts of bullying—and desperately evading his fists. Again and again the boy’s terrified eyes and shaking arms swivel around him wildly, and Shiki can see him staring back at her, lips twitching in a series of whispers or attempts of ones, as the threads bound her into a girl with a duffel bag, then a girl with Nyantan, then a girl with a duffel bag again.

There’s something the boy must have done, and Shiki has to know what it is.

She rushes to the boy’s side, just before the man in front of him could land his fist on him. “Hey there! Please don’t fight in this broad daylight! What can’t you guys talk it out properly?”

“What?” The man lowers his fist, perplexion growing in his face before his anger resumes. “Why exactly should I do that—”

Shiki lets the shock of recognition flood her face then, hands flying up to her widely-opened mouth. “Phones! I can’t believe you finally come around to see me after all this time! Have you been doing well?” Shiki stares at the boy’s headphones, and watches the boy’s abashment spread before Shiki gives his shoulder a punch and he seemingly gets it.

“Yeah, right… Nya—Nobuko-chan,” Shiki sees the way the boy internally cringes and she nearly giggles. “I tried to get to your house as quickly as possible, but I haven’t gone to the newer residential area you lived in just yet, so I kinda got lost. I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s fine it’s fine, now that you are here, we can go spend some time together again, as friends!” Shiki spreads her arms and gives the boy a hug, the duffel bag hitting somewhere along the left side of his back. Even though she can feel the way the boy tries to cringe away, she holds tight and the boy relaxes a little. “What do you say we go now?”

“Su—Sure,” The boy’s voice shakes just a little, and finally she can drag the boy away from this strange commotion, where she surely has to confront the boy in some ways.

⸶

The girl with pink hair and a duffel bag with strange designs—something like pins or badges clipped all over its brown fabric—pulls him into a small library, where she gestures for him to be quiet before dragging him into a basement floor. The books, or rather, files here are stored on shelves that can roll front or back. The girl randomly pulls apart one of those shelves, drags Neku along with her into it, then she starts flipping through the files on them.

Neku studies the area in the meantime, notes at the way this floor almost looks empty, specifically the unsettling fact that only the two of them seem to be around. The only sign that people here would notice anything at all seems to be the security cameras located way above them.

There’s no way he’s letting security cameras here catching them, right? Despite his own desires to restrain himself from doing anything, he quietly turns off all the cameras, only letting himself feel relatively mollified as the cameras shut down and swing downwards collectively.

“Um, so. Thank you for what you did back there, that was cool, and I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you in… whatever research you are trying to do here, so goodbye.” Neku rapid-fires, trying to drag himself out of the metal cases before the girl grabs onto his shoulder.

“I’m nearly there, so let me just get to it first, okay?”

“What the hell are you talking about? And I thanked you for what you did just now already, okay? You don’t have to—”

“‘Activation and Deactivation’. That should be your EO power, right?”

Neku freezes. There’s a switch in his head that screams “Fight” or “Flight” on either side and it’s dangerously going from one side to the other, wandering between both options.

But… this girl saved him earlier when nobody else did, right? It doesn’t seem likely that she would save him just to endanger him herself now.

And yet… there’s always a high price for trust.

“I’m not sure what you are talking about with the—”

“Oh, it’s fine talking about EOs here. I’ve never seen anyone coming to this floor for actual reference materials. Plus, this library’s too old to put cameras everywhere. We can talk here alright.”

What? What kind of talk could she possibly crave? What exact kind of situation is he in?

Neku stares down at the girl’s duffel bag. “What about you? What is that illusion power you have?”

“Oh? You’ve seen me with it already, so I don’t think you would have questioned further, but anyway! My power is to imitate other people or things. Kinda works like, sewing an illusion around myself to make me look like somebody else, or makes me a part of the environment. There are quite a lot of applications for this power but that’s what I usually use it for.”

“Like turning yourself into this girl with a duffel bag?”

“That’s right! Now that I’ve told you mine, I expect you to tell me details about yours.”

Neku stares down the exit, straining himself to hear for footsteps or the sounds of clothes rustling or warning alarms. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Oh come on. We basically both showed off our powers already, so why bother hiding it? And it’s like, totally unfair for you to see mine then not show me yours. Bullying girls isn’t nice, you know.”

“Since when am I bullying you? If anything, you are the one doing all the bullying.”

The girl pouts, hands clamping around something invisible and stomping on the ground once, twice. What’s she catching onto? That cat doll?

“I don’t care. I did save you, and the only repayment I want is just to make friends with you. There aren’t that many EOs out there, you know.”

“And I don’t know why the hell you keep insisting I’m an EO like you when literally only you have—”

“Okay okay, I understand your absolute reluctance to talk about your power, because that’s the nature of all of us EOs. We naturally detest revealing ourselves in any context or situation, even in the potential presence of another EO. I understand that.” The girl puts back the files and sighs heavily. “With that said, I hope you have shut down all the security cameras here before that happens ‘cause, you know, the security guards could have caught you and know your little EO secret.”

Neku snorts. “I don’t need you to worry for me. I’d be caught dead forgetting to do that in somewhere public like this—”

Wait.

_Hold on a sec._

The girl smirks, clapping her hands dramatically and laughing that obnoxiously high-pitched laugh.

“There there, activation and deactivation, am I right?” She bounces away happily, and takes a seat down on one of the tables outside those shelves. “So, what’s your name, Phones?”

“Don’t call me ‘Phones’... Sakuraba Neku.”

“Fancy meeting you, Neku! Mine’s Misaki Shiki.” And she holds out her hand.

Neku takes it, trying to remember just why he has been stupid enough to fall for the bait when he could have just gotten away with ardent denial.

“I just knew it back there! I knew you are the one with the power of turning things on and off, and that’s how you shut down and turn back on my illusion power back there. Must be nice to have a power that easily applicable in different situations.”

“Evidently not the one I was in though.” Neku shudders, and is almost disappointed at himself for showing any more sign of fear other than the embarrassing way he had acted earlier.

“Are you sure? Surely your power doesn’t just work on electrical appliances, right? Seeing you can turn off the security cameras and my EO power just now.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I’m also able to turn off sensory receptors and other biological functions along the way, so,” Neku looks down on his hands, frowning, recalling the moment the power has accidentally gone off its own. It has to be an accident in some ways, because he has no memories of any sort of grabbing onto anyone’s switches, least of all the switches of any other EO’s powers. “I guess it’s a pretty powerful power in general. Not that it matters.”

“It does! Think about all the things you could do with your life now! So much convenience in your daily life, isn’t it?”

Neku stares hard at Shiki’s brilliant smile, and looks down to the duffel bag. “You might say so but… I don’t see how that’s related to you, at all.”

At that, Shiki frowns, her fingers entangling themselves immediately as the frown deepens. “Wh—How’s that not related to me? We are friends now, aren’t we?”

“Nobody ever said to become your friend.”

“Hey now. Please don’t give me that darkened face and leave me out cold.” Shiki tiptoes and attempts to make herself look taller, glaring at Neku with a completely non-threatening pout. “I did save you back—”

“Yeah, and for that, I am eternally grateful or whatever, but that doesn’t mean. We.” Neku leans in at that, effortlessly looming over a surprised Shiki. “Are. Not. Friends.”

“But—”

“I have no interest in making any friends in the first place. Maybe you love getting friends, and that’s, by all means, your freedom, but,” Neku stands back up and eyes for the stairs, taking note of how fast he has to walk away to make sure Shiki won’t follow. “It’s not the case for me. And frankly speaking, it’s just rude of you to try forcing that on me. So goodbye.”

“But I’m only proposing that because—”

Neku locates the switch again and he presses down, hard.

Shiki lets out something like a scream, though she chokes it off herself, covering her mouth quickly before she starts to wave her hands in front of her.

“Neku? Did you turn off the lights? Can you turn it back on? Please?”

Neku runs out of the library, reaching the stairs and reaches for the doorknob.

He turns it.

Then his grip slackens, the doorknob reversing back into lock. And he turns back to look at Shiki, still fumbling for her way out with her hands awkwardly stretched in front of her.

“Where’s the power… Or did you…” Shiki turns her blank eyes towards the entrance, slightly skewed from seeing Neku properly. “Did you turn off my vision? Is that it?”

Neku hardens his resolve and turns the doorknob, eager feet running the stairs two at a time, bringing a heart with little regret away from this fateful encounter.

⸸

After what feels like an eternity—or more realistically feels like half an hour—Shiki feels her eyes blinking back with colors again, feels the shapes come into focus.

She looks up, and the security cameras are still down.

So that wasn’t a dream.

She takes up the duffel bag she has somehow thrown down the floor in her previous struggles and flailing-abouts, and she gives the surface a few pats.

“I’m sorry, Nyantan… I can’t believe I have thrown you down the floor again when I have sworn to never do that again. Ha.”

She pats the dust gathered on it, gives it a few huffs, and prepares to leave. Leave this wretched floor where such wretched things have taken place.

And yet, the maelstrom of those ancient whispers won’t leave her alone, and they drone on and on and on and on.

“So it’s really true? I can’t ever possibly have any friend?”

⸸

Neku runs and runs, away from the library, away from the imploding sense of guilt, a cacophony of noise threatening to rip him apart.

Fortunately, this time he didn’t accidentally get into Udagawa again. Instead, he ends up at A-East. The sounds of a Def Märch concert is roaring loud, and even at this time close to twilight the people walking around are abundant.

None of them is louder than that girl crying.

Neku grabs on his headphones harder, pushing them closer to his ears painfully. The hollows between his headphones and ears boom quietly, and it continues to haunt him.

Only speaking to himself fills the silence of them, and Neku chuckles at the grim humour of that, voice raspy and hoarse from all the screams he didn’t release. That’s how he always ends up, it seems.

“It’s just how this world should operate, Misaki. I can’t have any friend. It’s not your fault. It’s all me.”

⸶

The next day Neku comes back to school, he can’t quite shake the feelings of something being right next to him.

If They were in the mood of making a joke about his current state, They might have said that Neku is burdened by guilt that won’t leave him alone until he did something for Shiki. Except They couldn’t ever say that, because Neku would have never done any of these things if he has never died, and he couldn’t have ever died if not for Them.

But that’s still probably guilt, and probably something else here.

He steals glances around the classroom from time to time, and nobody catches his eye except the few of those idiot bullies. Nobody seems particularly strange, and yet, and yet…

The day ends as uneventful as it has always been, and in an instant, Neku has hauled his school-bag with him back on the road back home. He pointedly doesn’t take the route that will get him to pass through Molco, instead opting to pass through Scramble Crossing.

Trading Molco for Scramble Crossing as his route home raises far more problem, however. Scramble Crossing has always had a far higher concentration of pedestrians and street performers and street hawkers, and it’s one thing to collectively press some switches of several tens of people, but quite another to deal with hundreds. Maybe he should just practise more, not that the prospects of him having to develop his power in any shape or form tantalizes him at all.

Neku struggles against currents after currents of people pilgrimaging here, in Scramble Crossing, finding to his own shock just how noisy and completely revolting this place could be with the immeasurably high volume and people existing around him. At least here he shouldn’t find any familiar face, the possibility that they will just pass by completely unnoticed by one another high enough to assure Neku to keep on.

Several more street corners and traffic lights pass by, Neku’s apartment is finally coming in sight. And he quickens his pace, eager to end this confusingly strange day—

—When right in front of him rushes Shiki with a bright smile yelling “hi!”

“What the h—” Neku drops his school-bag in shock, nearly throwing himself down onto the ground as well. He regains his balance at the last second, then he glares back at Shiki, who just sticks out her tongue.

“Wow wow wow, backtrack right there, young man,” Neku notices that Shiki’s body moves a lot while she’s talking, with a smile plastered and all friendly like a children-oriented-mascot. “You didn’t actually think you can just get away from all this now, did you?”

“Whatever have I even gotten into at in the first place?”

“Well, of course, it’s that…” Shiki’s voice trails off as a crease starts forming between her brows, and she looks down onto the ground as if her premeditated lines are written down on the ground and she has difficulties reading them. ‘“It’s because… we have to band up for protection!”

“Band up for what protection?”

“You haven’t met those folks yet, but I reassure you they are out there, prowling, waiting for their chance strike us down.” Shiki bends down half her height and stretches her hands like a pair of feline claws, and Neku steps back tentatively with a scowl. “Those people will stop at nothing to capture EOs like us, so we have to band up together for protection!”

“Okay now, stalker. I don’t think you’ve gotten my message that I don’t like people forcing their ways to be my friends.”

“But I’m not! I’m trying to bring up a reasonable proposal!”

“Except you aren’t. You are just making this up right? Why else are you telling me about all this in such a public place like this?” Neku gestures around them, streets with virtually no people passing through. “I mean, there’s nobody here right now, but my point still stands.”

“Look, I’m not some highly, specially trained secret operation member that just automatically realizes I shouldn’t talk to other people in the open, okay?” Shiki’s frown deepens, and Neku could hear the increasing frustration in her voice, even when her smile still hangs on. “Anyway look, since you and I are the only few EOs around, why don’t we just be allies at the very least to—”

“No. No matter what it is you want, I’m saying no.” Neku picks up his school-bag and, without another word, starts walking away.

“Hey!” Shiki once again blocks Neku’s way, a firm stance and a rather intense stare in interrupting him. “I mean that, okay? I know you don’t like making friends, but, we all have to compromise from time to time, right?

“Correction, you are the one who—”

“Whether you like it or not, it’s beginning. The hunt for EOs. If we don’t do anything, we will all be picked off, one by one.”

“Whoever the fuck is hunting can try fighting with me or whatever when that time comes.”

“What makes you think a kid like you can easily handle a whole team of operatives?”

“What makes you think you are better than me in handling them?”

“I’m not going to argue with you eternally. Take this.”

Before Neku could protest any further, a piece of paper is shoved into their school-bag through the small gap facing the front, and Shiki keeps on smiling that bright smile, almost just like Them—

“That’s my phone number. This way you can’t say I just want to force my way to be your friend then.”

“But I didn’t even—”

Neku looks up from his school-bag before he realizes that Shiki has already disappeared into thin air without another word. What is it that she said is her power again? To imitate things and people?

Before Shiki ripple into existence right in front of him again, Neku studies the paper. Truthfully enough, it is a phone number, probably one that Shiki at least expects Neku to add into his contact list or something. At this time and age, Neku could just send messages with her if he did add her into his contacts, so that’s not an exactly hard thing to do, right?

Even if he had told himself that time and time again, there’s just an unshakable pressure sticking to his fingers, so that he can’t press in the number, so he can convince himself it’s not his fault he can’t add it in.

⸶

The next day Neku picks his usual shares of stationery and textbooks into his school-bag. He nearly forgets the sketchbook, the one where he still sketches possible graffiti designs he knows he will never bring into life. He still intentionally flips past the few pages with flowers and flowerpots and leaves sketched on.

He picks up the sketchbook, shoving it into the school-bag as a crumpled piece of paper rolls down to the floor. Neku picks it up and reads it, and the black-inked digits with pink hearts floating around almost seem familiar to him now.

Right, the phone number.

Neku shoves it into his school-bag, poking it into somewhere deeply buried within books and water bottle and pens and correction tape.

Today’s class doesn’t have as much variety as the other days’, just the regular compulsory subjects along with visual arts and music. With that said, seeing “visual arts” on the list alone has deprived Neku of some of his attention and resolve, reducing him to a neutral state of hanging his chin on the table as the teacher’s every word passes through his brain, one ear in and the other ear out.

Neku still stares at the paper, studies the scrawls and the pink hearts Shiki has doodled on when she could just have written the number to him normally.

Neku still stares at the paper, during lunch when normally he would finish it quickly and looks up plant field guides to make sure he can finally perfect that sketch of a wisteria held by a small child.

Neku still stares at the paper, during classes when the visual art teacher is talking about the most important pieces of the Impressionist period and several of his classmates are sniggering at him about his sketches, and even when the teacher has silenced them on his behalf.

Neku still stares at the paper, when the day is over and everyone is rushing out of school, and he’s still sitting there studying it, all the possibilities of what those potential EO hunters could possibly do.

He still leans onto Shiki exaggerating or making this up entirely; after all, how could people so easily find out who among so so many people are EOs? Plus, it’s not like every single person who has any Near-Death Experience will automatically turn into EOs, right?

But considering all this on a different angle; does she look like the type to go as far as making up a lie just so she could harass him? It’s true he knows technically nothing about this girl except that she’s all bubbly and wants to make friends so it’s hard to judge, but she _is_ the only one back then who offered any help to him at all. Doesn’t seem likely she would turn around and do such a thing.

Sitting here longer won’t show him an answer whether he likes it or not, however, so at long last Neku shoves the paper carefully into his pockets and leaves the classroom.

He walks down the stairs, half in a hurry, as he watches the orange flanked on the playground tip ever lower down the scale into burning amber, shadows growing taller and more sinister.

( _We used to stay even later and stroll down the back streets—_ )

Neku doesn’t want anyone’s shadows to capture him, so he runs out of the school gate.

Today Neku can run through the Scramble Crossing—it’s only six thirty, but the streets are dark enough for fewer people to pass through and for the sound of Shibuya to have decreased. It’s almost creepy in this way, and Neku unconsciously quickens his pace.

Faster.

Faster.

A little faster.

The darkness of the night seeps in, one cloud at a time, until the clock in Neku’s heart has trickled into overdrive, vivifies as the night is painted in an otherwise lovely but threatening shade of cobalt.

( _Threatening? What is there to be threatening about?—_ )

“I’m sure you are also tired of this dilly-dallying, so why don’t we just face each other and talk?”

Neku stops. He hasn’t realized that he has been running for some time.

Running from whoever this is.

Street lights go on and illuminate the street, except even in this mess of bright lights the speaker remains invisible and inscrutable. Neku can see absolutely nothing humanoid in the street, except for himself.

Until finally, someone turns a corner ahead of him and comes into view against the bright light.

Despite the hyper sense of tension that has been running high just now, Neku can’t help but internally scoff at the clearer sight of the stalker. They look like a man in his early thirties or late twenties, with messy orange hair tied up in a messier, short ponytail. He wears a black jacket with what looks like skull and skeleton motifs along the zipper and sleeves. Just to make things even weirder, he’s also sucking on a lollipop with much enthusiasm.

“There, there. Greetings.” Ponytail man bows, though it is a gesture filled with much mockery and sarcasm. “You don’t need to know my name, and I don’t need to know yours either. There’s only one thing I know about you, and it is good enough.”

Neku gets into a defensive stance. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Ponytail man laughs. “I’m sure you do. You wouldn’t need to act all defensive like that just because I said something like that to you. I promise you nothing bad will happen if you would just cooperate.”

“Cooperate in what? Letting you rob me or something? There’s no way I’d listen to talks like that.”

Ponytail man chuckles, pulling the lollipop along his gum and teeth. “I’m well-versed in the behavioral pattern of your people. Strong self-preservation instincts and fights to the tail end of their last breaths. Would rather do anything than to risk dying again.”

Neku can feel his fists clenching tight enough to hurt, can feel every pulse through his veins and arteries scream for him to do something. “I don’t think you are one to speak, weird stalker dude.”

“Really now, boy, why postpone the inevitable? Just come along, pay a visit to our headquarters.”

“‘Our’? I don’t think there’s anyone else here. Just you, and all those weird shit you said.”

Neku takes out his phone, as stealthily as he can (hopes), and types in the number. What number?

The only number he can even remember, and the rest being the so-called rescue message he could muster up.

_weird stalker dude trying to take me away somewhere am nearly at the apartment complex can you help pls_

Great. Now he has really become the world’s biggest douche for real now.

Neku’s not sure if he has hit Send at the last crucial second, but he has no choice to look that up now, because the next moment he knows Ponytail man has stricken.

A crackle of electricity flies somewhere near Neku’s earlobe, and had it not been the step away at the last second Neku’s sure he would have been tased and woke up somewhere else, vivisected. Ponytail man does not give him any other second or room to breathe, immediately coming back and slashing the taser towards him once more.

Neku briefly ponders over how he should handle this, if his power could serve good enough to lay the proper amount of hindrance to the man’s plan as he twists and turns away from Ponytail man. It looks like there will be no satisfactory ending for this man other than his capture and delivery to whatever the hell ‘their’ headquarter is, and yet Neku can’t find any resolve to turn off anything on him.

It’s doing everything to fight for your life, or risk everything to obscure your true identity for a longer time. A dilemma viciously tugging at Neku’s extremities.

“You know,” Ponytail man yells, missing Neku’s kneecaps by a millisecond with his kicks. “It would actually be better for you to just give up and come along. I promise I could make this painless.”

“With all the moves you are pulling right now, I don’t think that’s very possible.” Neku keeps a delicate balance of stalling him with more useless conversations, waiting for Shiki to come help along (method unknown), and fighting him off the way a normal human being would. This man with his stupid taser is not making this particularly easy.

“You don’t understand the things you are doing by ignoring our call. Your enemies will only grow. Your kind don’t take kindly to other allies, and certainly don’t take kindly to another of their own.”

“I still have absolutely no idea what the hell you are talking about, mister. Need me to call the police for help?”

Ponytail man merely aims to push the taser against Neku’s underside, and Neku dodges, but he swears he could almost feel the brush of the taser’s harmless part just enough to liven up his exhausted form again.

 _Where the hell is she_ , Neku thought for a moment, before the darker one with the cruel syllables pipes up. _Really? You think you of all people have the right to question why someone isn’t coming for you? When’s the last time you come for someone? When’s the last time you didn’t hurt someone—_

“Don’t,” Neku curses under his breath, pathetically, before one kick under his shin sends him sprawled down onto the ground, face-first. The concrete tastes like pain and helplessness. There must be a broken tooth there somewhere, with the copper tang spreading all over his palette, noises ringing in his head.

Rather than the strong pulsing electricity to incapacitate him, Neku instead feels a small kick at his feet, as he raises his head a little and attempts to turn back.

Ponytail man has crossed his arms and stands away a little further from him, looking down with the kind of apathetic expression you see in a coroner’s face after they are done inspecting the body. “You don’t have to bother to get up and keep fighting if you don’t want to. There are only two roads you can choose now.

“First, you can lay low and let me drag you away to our headquarter.

“Second, you can fight back with what you have, because I know you have definitely not used anything off your arsenal yet. So now’s a good time.”

Neku claws at the concrete, feeling every little bit of the stones digging deeper into his nails. Every note in his song is calling for him to tear down this man, _this body bag_ , this simple mess of writhing flesh mapped with nerves that can be easily turned off, easily crushed and fractured until they are reduced to nothing—

His left hand clamps around his right as it barely levers him off from the ground. He can’t do that. Not after all these layers of play-pretend normalcy.

Maybe it would have been better if he could just tear off all these layers, tear them off in the first place and not imprison himself among them. Did he really like it? What is even going on anymore? He must have hit his head real hard to wonder about things like that, to so foolishly ask questions like that, but he finds he can’t stop that, can only numbly feel for the neurons that still work in his head, desperately trading electrical impulses that will ultimately mean nothing, nothing meaningful nothing real and above all nothing—

“Neeeeeeeeeeeeekkuuuuuuuu—”

An almost comical scream tears through the air, makes its way into Neku’s ears, and for a moment as he struggles to decipher its meaning he starts doubting his ability to tell reality apart.

But then the voice materializes completely, in the form of a lithe girl with a shoddy newsboy cap and brown pouch and a black cat doll. For a moment, Neku is genuinely impressed with how well the grey matter under his cranium has managed to draw out and realize this full model of the half-friend that he has nearly committed himself to making.

But then she holds out her hand and pulls him to his feet. “What the hell have you been doing?”

Neku barely maintains a balance on his feet, a headache of sorts still ping-ponging around the cavity of his cranium, jamming its way between his synapses. “Man. Tries to kidnap me. Has a taser. Probably still standing there.”

“Okay yeah, he kinda definitely is.” Shiki gives his shoulders some pats, and after making sure he can stand by himself she turns back to Ponytail man, who has resorted to juggling his taser for fun. “Who the hell are you?”

Ponytail man gives the taser another spin between his fingers, frustratingly not electrifying himself in the process and saving both of them a world’s worth of troubles. “Like I’ve told the young man, I need not know who you are, and you need not to know that info from me either. Though I gotta say, stalking around for someone you randomly pick up on your radar with no way of knowing who they really are, I really appreciate the young lady’s efforts in supplying the name, Neku.”

Neku breathes harshly out of his nose. “Good job, Shiki.”

Shiki sputters, giving his shoulders a rough shove. “And you just told him who I am!”

“I guess that makes us fair.”

“It doesn’t! We don’t even know what the fuck this guy wants!”

Ponytail man gives an attention-grabbing cough, so both kids stare back at him, stances defensive and ready to strike, though Neku has no idea how the hell Shiki is even going to fight with her power.

“Hmm, so I suppose this is all an explicit enough confession on both of your behalf that you are both EOs, then? I’m glad you do so. I was getting worried that I need to pick a different target.”

“Ah, aren’t you just like one of those gross investigation agency for EOs or something?” Shiki glares at Ponytail man. “You were with that pink-haired woman from earlier, aren’t you?”

“No possible idea who you were talking about. Anyway,” Ponytail man flares up the taser again, that one crackling sound pulsing it with danger and some kind of textbook definition of evil. “Whether you like it or not, I—”

Ponytail man has no chance of finishing his sentence, because the next second he knows, Shiki has rushed up to him, pouch flying right into his face.

The fighting style Shiki displays is so rawly normal, that for a moment Neku stares ahead like a barely-fed goldfish waiting for its food to drop down from the heavens.

“Don’t just stand there, Neku!” Shiki yells back overhead, still desperately slamming her pouch against Ponytail man’s taser. “You know I can’t use much of anything to fight at all!”

Somehow, that statement had annoyed him. “Then why the hell did you even bother coming?”

“Because you are my friend, idiot!” Shiki said, without missing a heartbeat.

Neku doesn’t know if that’s what do it in, but Shiki’s words have done something to him, planted some kinds of seeds that quickly grow roots that send warmth down every nook and crannies in his chest, in his heart, and it should have felt uncomfortable, and all capacity of his heart should have long been occupied, but in that moment, what have once been done to his heart doesn’t matter, and he reaches out to his song.

The taser finally flicks off, and Ponytail man lets out a yelp that indicates he’s becoming helpless. Neku opens his eyes to the sight of him grabbing his eyes while Shiki slows down and leans herself against a nearby wall.

“I don’t— What have you—” Ponytail man sputters, his voice carrying a thin hint of fear as his hands grapple for something to establish purchase on. In the end, he bumps his back against the wall, and he stops walking around.

“There we go. Please leave us alone now.” Shiki said after heaving another big sigh, and she balls her fists tight again, ready for another brewing fight.

Ponytail man cracks a subtle, sinister smile, then, without his sight even given back, starts feeling his way along the walls back to wherever he comes from.

Shiki slumps her shoulders and sits down onto the ground.

“Jeez, Neku, if it actually has been that easy, why did you even call me, honestly? I was a complete liability just now.”

Neku sits down next to her. “No, you weren’t. You are surprisingly a very inspirational fighter, even if whatever fighting skills you do have as you just displayed are abysmal.”

“You know what I mean! You could’ve just shut that guy’s eyes off and call it a night. It’s not like I mind coming out to help you, it’s just. Kinda inane to do that at all, you know?”

“I know, I know.” Neku balls his fists tight, the _shut them off shut them off_ still singing loudly, pounding persistently in his veins. “It… it really was stupid and impulsive. Especially when I’ve also outed you as an EO. I could’ve just done everything on my own, but then…”

Shiki inches a little closer, huffing a reassuring sigh and giving Neku’s shoulder a gentle pat. “I know. The thought of being outed alone and being targeted so specifically must have felt terrifying, right?”

It wasn’t just terrifying. It’s mortifying, and even now the very thought passing through his head makes the blood in his arteries chill, even when his arrhythmic heartbeats jackhammer quicker. “Yes.”

Shiki’s shoulders straighten up again in an almost fake-prideful way. “Well, I guess you can feel just how terrified and just, bad I’ve been the whole time I’m alone?”

Neku has had the urges to argue with her, to retort, to put things right again, but there’s no lie in her insinuations. “... Yeah, I get that.”

“So,” Shiki plucks out her phone from her pockets. “So, you feel like giving me your phone number yet?”

Against Neku’s better instincts, he boots up the screen on his own.

⸶

At least when he gets home his parents didn’t pester him for too long. Since there’s only visible injuries around his legs he had gotten away by just claiming that he tripped accidentally on his way back. And it’s that late because the hospital he went to doesn’t have that many nurses still available. Yeah. That totally makes sense.

Neku drags his weary body onto the bed, then forcefully closes his eyes. But even when he did so, questions are still pounding in his head, omnipresent stars swimming in every electrical impulse passing between each synapses still working in his head, dagger-sharp points swarming around in the eigengrau of his closed eyelids.

He turns on his phone again, wandering between his list of contacts, which aren’t much beyond the two numbers for his parents, the personal phone number for the teacher in charge of his primary school’s art club, Their phone number, and Shiki’s phone number.

He vacillates between them, wondering if calling any of them would ever be meaningful and necessary. He can’t see himself cheerfully phoning Shiki just because he wants to hang out or do things friends would do. He can’t quite see himself doing anything like that when the ghost of a certain someone still hangs thick in the air around him.

He types up a hopefully concise enough message.

“I guess I will give this friendship thing a go. It’s just for mutual protection though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be quite damn honest, for some reasons the scene of kariya trying to get neku back to his "agency", and neku subsequently calling shiki for help, is the scene that i've been the most satisfied and happy to write abt in recent memories. it just feels... very cathartic to write it somehow? i hope u guys enjoy this too!!!
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated!!! thank u for reading this fic!!!


	3. kamiarizuki - there might be gods (who listen)

Neku is still not sure what exactly Shiki wants from him, and that only makes him far more perplexed than he already was with Ponytail Man.

With Ponytail Man and many others in this school, Neku can quite easily tell the piece he’s meant to play in their puzzles. Jerk jock upperclassman is usually just here to persuade him to join their dumbass sports club because Neku’s the only one sitting around alone and vulnerable to their bullshit. The art club teacher might be here to tempt him into submitting graffiti artwork to inter-school competitions because there’s virtually no one else in this school interested in making any graffiti.

Well, there used to be another, but they are gone.

But Shiki— Shiki’s quite a different story at the moment.

At first, Neku has assumed she’s just another chatterbox kind of kid that lacks a loyal listener who will obediently hear everything she said, but the more gaps between silence where Shiki encourages him to talk about himself, the more the theory is effectively toppled.

Today they are having lunch together again, for perhaps the sixth time already. It’s hard to keep count when days blur into one another still. Shiki is talking something about inconsequential, something about fashion trends in Shibuya and how her current projects align with them when she’s looking at him again, sucking down on her juicebox before the silence catches up to Neku.

“What?”

“Didn’t you hear me just now? Anyway, basically what I just said is, ‘what exactly do you do for fun’?”

“For fun?”

“Yeah! What, Neku, you think kids our age could do anything for any serious reasons? That would have to be if you star in one of those ‘Special Someone Saving the World’ thing, but I don’t think any of us are.”

Neku’s thoughts drift back to Ponytail Man. For whatever reasons, this man has to capture EOs and bring them somewhere else. And he has been willing to hurt a kid. He wonders if a guy like that would be a world saviour. “I… I do graffiti designs for fun.”

“Graffiti designs?”

“Yeah, like, sketching outlines and getting a feel of the composition of what each different piece of graffiti is like?”

Shiki nods, eyes drifting down to her lunch with a thoughtful frown. “I see. To be honest, I’ve kinda just assumed you guys just take a spray can and paint whatever comes to your mind.”

“It can be just that. I just don’t like being that random myself.”

“Ooh? So how exactly is it like for you then? How many sketches do you do? And how many of them get finalized and stuff?”

Neku frowns deeper at that, his chopsticks settling back down next to his bento. The question did demand something out of him he hasn’t spent literally a second considering, at all. Or, rather than that, maybe the answer has just been—

“Um, hi? Earth to Neku?”

Neku jumps a little. “Yes?”

“Are you doing okay? You look a little pale.”

“Oh. I’m, I’m fine.”

Shiki looks down to her own bento and promptly takes two more bites before closing it. “If you are just bored or something, we could talk about something else. What do you want to talk about?”

 _I don’t want to talk about anything_. “Hm, maybe we can talk about your, like, your clothes?”

Shiki looks over her attire. “Oh, oh yeah sure. Which part of my clothes would you like to—”

“Oh, I don’t really mean like, your clothes specifically.” Neku reduces his volume to a whisper. “I had just been wondering. Why aren’t you wearing your own face?”

The lights in Shiki’s eyes dim considerably.

“Oh, about that…”

Shiki stops looking at him, and casts her glance towards the outside of the classroom.

Neku thought this conversation has ended, or even this entire nearly-a-friendship thing, until he heard Shiki’s own whispering.

“Maybe one day, I will feel like wearing my own face.”

⸶

“Is there somewhere you want to go?”

Neku chuckles, the inanity of this question being the trigger. “Do I have somewhere to go? I promise you, Shiki, I’m probably the single person in this world who have the least number of places to go.”

“Huh? Why would that be? There are so many places in the world to go to and to see, don’t you think?”

This is one of those weird moments that make Neku re-evaluate how he sees Shiki, mostly with the notion that he is severely wrong about something. “Why exactly would you question that? Isn’t knowing about your own good enough?”

“You see, Neku, that’s the thing.” Shiki leans onto the railings of the flight of stairs they are on. “Don’t you want to know more about other places and other people? What’s the fun in staying all alone?”

Neku takes a few steps down onto the ground floor. “What’s the fun in plunging along into things you don’t understand?”

“Oh? Are we finally having some friend-level philosophical discussions?”

“Would you like to?”

Shiki sticks out her tongue. “Well, for su—”

“Ouch.”

The sound comes in almost more like an afterthought, as the action bumps into everyone else’s field of sight seconds late, and Neku’s left to hold Shiki as she nearly falls off.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Shiki regains her balance and stares at the person she bumped and accidentally knocked down onto the floor.

Neku follows her line of vision, and against his best instincts, he holds out a hand for the kid.

“Are you okay?”

Said kid wears a black beanie, with what looks like a white skull printed on it. Around the fringes, one could get a peek of the kid’s golden hair, and once the kid’s done nursing the sore spot on their forehead they open their incredulous blue eyes.

“Oh, sorry there… I wasn’t watching my way.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! I wasn’t watching my way either.” Shiki said. “Do you need help or something going somewhere?”

Golden kid shakes their head. “I’m not really going anywhere, to be fair, I was kind of just—”

“Rhyme! What did those kids in front of you just did?”

The burrow between Rhyme’s eyebrows deepen. “Oh no. You guys should just bail now.”

“Why?”

“You two there! Don’t move!”

Neku and Shiki look behind Rhyme’s back, where a rather big guy is rushing towards them. Like Rhyme, he wears a black beanie with a white skull, though his eyes seem to be pools of dark amber instead.

The moment Beanie Guy reaches them, he pulls Rhyme behind him and glares daggers at Neku and Shiki. “What the hell were you planning to do to my little sis?”

“Beat! They did nothing! It was me who crashed into th—”

“Like hell you are, Rhyme! You don’t have to defend them or anything, just tell me so I can—”

“Daisukenojo, if you don’t stop doing this stupid thing right now, then I will—”

Rhyme didn’t finish with their threat, because the next second Beat has already started screaming at them. “Rhy— Rhyme! We agreed not to dissolve our names like th—”

“It’s ‘disclose’, and if you don’t want me to do that then just apologize to them.” Rhyme turns back to the duo, and both only catch a glimpse of Rhyme’s darkened expression before it melts back to a customary smile. “I’m sorry for my big brother’s outburst just now. In fact, we didn’t even introduce ourselves yet.”

“There’s no need for us to introduce ourselves to rude folks like that anyway.”

“Trust me in what I’m doing, Beat. Name’s Bito Raimu, or just Rhyme as I and many others who know us seem to prefer.” Rhyme gestures to the boy. “And his name is Daisu—”

“Beat! Name’s Beat!” Beat rushes in to fill in the gap with an enthusiasm he hasn’t shown just now, as if his full name is a cursed incantation.

Shiki raises her hand as if there’s something she wants to say, but immediately drops it back down when nothing comes to mind. “I, I see. And my name’s Misaki Shiki, and this is my friend, Neku.”

“Sakuraba. Sakuraba Neku.”

“Nice to meet you guys, Sakuraba-san, Misaki-san. Though the circumstances aren’t pleasant, I suppose.” Rhyme lets out a short giggle, a gentle sound as if it’s afraid to be too loud, but also wants to invite its listener to hear on in its secrets.

“Nice to meet you too, Rhyme!” At that, Shiki does extend her hand and earnestly shakes hand with Rhyme.

Neku tries to say something, but before there’s anything to be said at all, all the words have already drifted away from his head. There were words going to be lodged in his throat, but before they even got that high something had dragged them back to his guts.

Shiki has shoved him a little on the shoulder in the meantime.

“Hey, Neku! Stop zoning out and say goodbye.”

Neku looks back up, but the Bito siblings are already walking away. Shiki lets out an exasperated huff.

“What? It’s not like we are still little kids.”

“No matter what age you are you should say goodbyes. Especially when they are friends.”

Neku scrunches up his nose. “Oh, and somehow we are friends too?”

“Come on, how else are you going to make any friends?”

“You know I don’t make any friend in the first place. And we are literally only hanging out because—”

Shiki pushes up an urgent palm against Neku’s mouth. “Wait you know what! I got places to be! See you tomorrow!”

“Okay then, by—”

“Oh and tomorrow we will have lunch with them! Don’t forget!”

Neku tries to slip in a ‘no you didn’t’ or ‘how could you just drag me in without even asking’, but all of them are too harsh and too slow as Shiki speeds away, her shadow barely lingering down the stairs.

⸶

Regardless of how Neku feels about Shiki, her shopping sprees in any shopping arcade with the latest fashion trends and her lunchtime talks and her other-time talks, there is an undeniable charm to her presence and a necessary function even; she keeps his darker thoughts at bay.

Thoughts are pretty funny things. You can’t expect them to pop up when you want them to, but you can’t keep them safely locked somewhere you can control when you want them to be either.

He tries to quicken his pace, wondering all the while about how self-defeating it is that they go their separate ways right after school today. What happened to the whole mutual protection spiel? Surely there won’t be a second round with taser-nut Ponytail Man this fast again, right?

Neku shakes off that thought. In its futility, other thoughts always rush in to fill the space. Regardless of what Neku would have thought, the imagery of Udagawa never cease crowding around his head, breathing to life again the thoughts of what he has sworn to accomplish and what he has utterly failed to do so. Isn’t this entirely ironic though? To fail at that task and gain something in return instead? And to have gained even more, things he didn’t ask for but stand starkly in front of him, waiting for him to make the first move.

He thinks about that lunch slated for tomorrow. It’s going to be dreadful.

“Sa— Sakuraba-san?”

“Hmm?”

An underclassman Neku has never seen around the school— to be fair, Neku doesn’t exactly spend his time in school running around learning about everyone here— has been looking over him with a slight frown, like he can’t believe someone with the name of Sakuraba Neku would somehow wear a purple hoodie or purple headphones or some other kinds of irregularities he has observed of Neku.

“I got a note stuck to my locker, and apparently it’s addressed to you?”

The underclassman holds out an unusually yellowed piece of paper to Neku, and Neku takes it after a few seconds of hesitation. How would someone write anything to him at all?

Right after giving the parchment, the underclassman runs away yelling for his friends to wait for him. What a way to further his belief that no one could possibly be invested in a friendship with him, not that the person intended it, of course.

He reads the words written on it:

_were you going to die again?_

What.

Neku flips the paper over, but no other action done to the paper could reveal anything else to him. The paper is really just that, bears only that message for Neku to read, and absolutely no other context or subtext buried within for him to understand anything.

Except, if he reads into the meaning… there are dangers buried in every stroke, isn’t it? ‘Die again’ would imply the writer knows that Neku has a near-death experience before, and technicality of whether he has died for real aside, that does mean the message must be written by someone who’d know—

Neku crumples the paper, stuffing it into his pockets. No good to examine this in the open. For all he knows, Ponytail Man’s buddies might have been watching the whole time.

But even if he has reasoned with himself in that way… he can’t help having the words slowly but surely imprinted onto his mind, even as his feet start quickening and running farther away.

⸶

The first thing Neku notices wrong in the house is that it has become too big.

Where normally there would be stacks of books and newspapers and other things put into piles around the hall, only a clean table with a small plate of biscuits remain. The television has been relocated to the table’s left-top direction.

On top of that, his mom is nowhere to be seen. Which could only mean one thing.

Mom is doing an early spring cleaning. For whatever kind of reason possible.

He rushes upstairs to his room, to where it must have been—

“Neku? Have you tried the biscuits I put out earlier?”

“Mom? What the hell are you doing?”

Almost just as expected, mom is taking care of his room in the most ruthless way possible. Every piece of t-shirt and other clothes alike have been tidily moved into the wardrobe, not a single piece of dirty sock or worn-down jacket to be found on the floor.

It looks startlingly blank and lacking personality, but the dawning realization that this shouldn’t be his primary concern slowly infiltrates every corner of Neku’s heart.

“Mom, where’s that potted plant I put near the windows?”

“That wisteria? I threw it away.”

Neku’s throat collapses onto itself.

“You. You threw it away?”

“Yeah,” Mom continues humming her little song cheerfully, completely unaware of what way Neku is looking at her right now. “I saw the wisteria has been dying, and I don’t feel like it’s possible to revive it anymore. So I have to throw it away. Sorry I didn’t tell you in advance, Neku.”

He’s trembling, Neku is dimly aware of that, his bones turning into ruin so fast he could barely gather himself, could feel the way cruel gravity drags him towards the earth, drags the parts of him that have been long overdue a proper reckoning—

“Neku? What’s wrong? Is that wisteria important or…” Mom trails off, but in the way her voice slopes down into uncertainty, there is certainty that she has finally realized the gravity of her action. “Was, was that wisteria—”

“I need to go.”

⸶

She hadn’t stopped him, for which he is both grateful and ungrateful. Every iota of his being is screaming for him to run faster, get to whatever collection box the wisteria has been thrown into. Wherever the hell could that wisteria be thrown away to? There’s always talks of what garbage should be sorted to which coloured recycle box, but no instructions for flowers, are there? Where could she possibly even throw away a flower?

The garbage disposal place. Of course, that’s the case, their apartment doesn’t have bustling garbage collection trucks running here early in the morning like the rest—

Neku turns a corner, watching for the gradual recede of bushes and dances of flies that indicate where the garbage disposal collection point is. His shoes grind onto concrete populated by blue plastic bags bursting to the seams with rancid messes he can’t identify. Rancid messes that don’t look relatively like dirt or the kind of things that accompany purple petals.

Which one can possibly contain his wisteria—

Their wisteria—

“Neku?”

Neku barely restrains his soul from jumping out of his skin. “Shi— Shiki?”

“Yeah, I’m just, here to put down my house’s garbage.” Shiki puts down another dreadfully identical blue bag onto the pile, contributing to Neku’s despair. “Uh, I know encountering like this is awkward and stuff, so uh, sorry if I made you uncomfortable or just shock you or anything just now?”

“It’s, it’s fine,” Neku mumbles, his hands inching towards the blue plastic, an invisible and irresistible gravity between him and the garbage bags.

The two of them continue to stare off like that then, both seemingly fixed into their places with the screws of uncertainty.

Until Shiki speaks again. “So, I’ll see you around? It’s getting late though, isn’t it? So, I won’t delay your return home any longer! Bye!”

She springs from her spot and runs straight back home, but there is something about the steps that lockdown Neku’s head.

He looks back to the pile, still with flies hovering around and filth in every inch.

Somewhere in there, might be his wisteria.

But somewhere in there, maybe nothing of value does exist. Maybe there were only what everyone has known is there— garbage, and more garbage and nothing else. Not his wisteria buried in filth. Not the wilted purple petals tainted on every corner with filth he couldn’t even bring himself to name.

He feels his fists clenching tight against each other, his fingers tightly propped against each other as if hoping nothing will get lost through their gaps.

( _But everything has gotten lost already—_ )

He lets go of that gravity and walks back home.

⸶

“Neku? Are you okay?”

It isn’t difficult for him to not keep any word locked behind his lips when he does has nothing left to say.

Mom impatiently switches between watching for Neku’s reactions, the news on the television and the rapid ticking of the clock. She cracks a forced chuckle. “Jeez. I wonder when exactly your dad could come back home already.”

Neku chops down the broccoli further into unidentifiable green bits. “It’s okay, mom. You don’t have to force yourself to make any conversation.”

Another sigh, long and drawn-out. “Neku, I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

A visible gulp. “For throwing out things when I didn't ask you for your opinion at all.”

Some time ago, or maybe even just in the past few days, there would be some forms of summonable anger and eroded words launching out of docks to somewhere else they could nourish and destroy.

But all he could say then was. “It’s okay.”

“Huh?”

“I mean. It’s not okay that you threw my things away, but,” Neku said, his voice so gentle it almost feels intangible. “It’s right of you to have thrown that wisteria away. I should get a new one.”

Mom’s lips crack into a smile, as if everything in the world has just blossomed into her perfect image, which it might be in the form of a non-argumentative Neku. “That’s great, Neku. I know you aren’t exactly one for gardening, but I’m glad to see you take passions in anything. Tell me later to give you money for buying flowers.”

Neku smiles into his half-eaten bowl of rice.

⸷

Just to be sure, Neku runs back to the garbage collection point just one more time, digs his dirt-caked nails into the bags just one more time. No matter what though, there are no perse petals for his fingers to caress.

⸶

“You want to go buy flowers?”

Neku pokes at his unappetizing lunch, pondering on ways to escape from these dreadful conversations as Shiki and Rhyme finally stop their conversations and shift their attention to Neku. “Yeah, I’m planning to do that.”

For one surprising time, Rhyme isn’t giggling. They have been giggling so much that it genuinely shocks Neku to not hear them giggle one more time as any response. “Buying flowers? You got any option in mind?”

 _Why the hell do you even need to know?!_ “Wisteria.”

Rhyme places an inquisitive hand on their chin. “Hmm, wisteria? I heard it’s not that commonly available lately. You probably won’t be able to find them so easily.”

Well. Admittedly that subject didn’t occur to him earlier. “Oh, I see. I guess I will just have to—”

“You don’t have to run around Shibuya looking for the perfect wisteria if that’s what you were thinking.” Rhyme said, a slight smile tugging at their lips. “I can bring you to one.”

“Bring, bring me to one?”

“I used to love gardening and taking care of potted plants in general, and I’ve tried tending to wisteria. I still keep a pretty clear list of what stores always have wisteria in stock all the time.”

That sounds way too good to be true, but Neku finds himself leaning towards them at that. At the edges of his periphery, he could see Shiki watching the development with amusement in her eyes. “You, you will take me there?”

“Sure. It’s such an easy thing to do. And for friends, I’m okay with doing quite a lot!”

Rhyme brings up another smile on their face, but something about it just spells _off_ for Neku. The willingness, the joy apparent on her features. It feels like it’s supposed to be wrong, but everything about it seems so right too.

Neku closes his eyes and shakes his head a little to dispel the thoughts. Maybe it’s really him who should turn up the brightness of his own mind to catch up with the glow of everyone else. Maybe it’s really him who should change.

(and maybe, maybe it’s possible, even without Th—)

“Are you free to go today?”

“Yeah.”

“Then meet me at the school gate today after school. I will take you there.”

Another shard of worry chimes into Neku. “As much as I appreciate that, what about your brother? He didn’t even come to have lunch with us. I feel like he, doesn’t really like seeing us with you?”

Rhyme unconsciously looks to their right at that, as if they just noticed the absence of their older brother just now. “Well, that’s just how Beat is, so don’t worry.”

Shiki raises a questioning spoon. “‘How he is’? You mean, like, is he always that, how do I put it… protective?”

Rhyme nods. “Yeah. Even back when we were very young and barely know anything, Beat has always been super protective of me. He’s just… no good with other strangers interacting with me, I suppose.”

Shiki’s inquiries continue. “Speaking of which, where is he today?”

“He’s sick today,” Rhyme digs into their bento, though it’s still obvious from Neku’s angle that their smile is sliding off. “He will be fine though, just a small cold. Meanwhile, today I’m gonna have some freedom.”

They give Neku a knowing smile at that. “And some fun.”

⸶

As Rhyme promises, the flower shop from where wisteria can be purchased is located quite close to their school. With that said, however, it’s tucked away in a relatively secluded area, in that it isn’t lying on the streets open to the mass or on a shopping mall embellished with the latest trend-setting boutiques.

Turning a sharp corner into the street alley next to AMX, several small stores with only small shelves of their respective products can be found, but just a little deeper around the middle, there is a rather small, but sophisticated-looking flower shop, with bouquets of flowers poking out.

“Here we are.”

Despite its shoddy location in the middle of a rather dark alley, when Neku walks into the flower shop there’s no denying that the owner of the flower shop knows their catalogues of flowers. Not only do the usual red roses poke out from up-above shelves flaunted by carnations, but there’s also selections of magnolia and marigolds in full blossom.

Neku takes another cursory glance of all the flowers available around him, but there are little purple petals around.

Rhyme scratches the back of their head, a little frown developing. “I will go ask the owner about wisteria. I think they might have been in storage at the back.”

“Huh?” Neku looks back to the counter, where a boy around their age with remarkably white hair seems to be dozing. “But isn’t that person—”

“I don’t think this person is the shopkeeper, Neku. Last time I checked they are definitely not a kid around our age.” With that, Rhyme edges deeper into the store’s seemingly infinite space adorned with flowers of every type. “Just give me a few minutes and we should be good.”

“I don’t really need that much help, Rhyme, I could just—”

But Rhyme is no longer listening to him, because the next moment they are already so much deeper in that Neku can barely make out their orange outfit between green shades and petals.

Well then. He could just do his own digging around or ask the counter kid, who seems to have just woken up.

“Um, excuse me there?”

Counter kid releases a few yawns and looks over towards Neku.

Then he goes straight back to the counter, face steadily going down towards the counter again.

“Hey, hey! I’m talking to you?”

“Yes yes, I heard you,” A brittle, whispering voice rings from the counter. “There’s just no point of me trying to help when your friend’s already going to ask the boss to help.”

There’s technically no gap in that line of logic, but something about the kid’s tone grows a deepening crease in Neku’s brows. “That’s true, but… You are like, an employee here, aren’t you? Shouldn’t it be your responsibility to help?”

The counter kid turns over his face towards the wall instead of the counter. “Didn’t I just tell you the flaw in your logic? Now be a kind person and let a kid sleep.”

Now there’s imminent fire lapping at his throat. “If you don’t intend to get to work at all, then why are you even here?”

“I intend to work here for other things, not things my boss can already take care of.”

“Well then, why don’t you just—”

Before Neku could finish, wreaths of white hair pivot into his face, a pair of violet eyes staring up at him with indescribable emotions.

“Look,” The boy continues. “I’ve been running on energy drinks mixed with coffee for the last whole week. It won’t hurt you to see a kid like that taking as much sleep as they can. You won’t die and you will get your wisteria. So now, leave me alone.”

With that, he slams his face back onto the counter. Soft snoring follows quickly.

A disconcerting heaviness expands on Neku’s chest, constricting his lungs metaphorically. The boy’s harsh tone and tearing out expletives like he’s born to do that is doing something to his shifting emotions.

“Hey.” Then, deciding that his tone is perhaps not the best fit, he tries again with a hopefully soothing pat on the boy’s left shoulder. “There, I am sorry for being harsh like that just now. I… I confess I was being unreasonable to a degree, even if what I have assumed of you fit what one usually expects others to be like I probably shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

No response. Neku huffs, turning back to the inner side of the shop and wondering where Rhyme and the shopkeeper could possibly be when—

—ice-frozen hands push him down onto the ground—

—“What was that for—”—

—and a woman with peach-coloured short hair rushes into the store, scrambling past pots of flowers and gunning her way into presumably the storage room.

With what looks like a literal gun in her hand.

Neku props an elbow to lever himself off the ground, just in time to see the person next to him, who has undoubtedly just crashed him down onto the ground, is the white-haired kid at the counter.

The white-haired kid stands back up quickly, staring into the store with a deep frown. “Well, that’s gonna be a mess.”

“Huh?” Neku gets up, staring at the white-haired kid and trying to understand the sudden situation. A woman runs in with a gun, and this kid just remembers to—

⸶

“Neku? Wake up…”

Neku coughs a little, his eyes slowly wrenching themselves open to two feminine voices.

Shiki and Rhyme are staring down at him, questions swirling in their exchanged glances.

“Have I been dozing or something?”

Shiki crosses her arms. “Oh, that does look to be the case. Rhyme told me she had been waiting for you for half an hour at the school gate but you never come around, so she asked me where you are and here we are.”

And if that’s the case, then…

Neku turns to Rhyme, who looks just a little less smiley as usual. When they notice Neku staring though, their smile pops up again. “Ah, since you guys are here, so why don’t we—”

“Rhyme, I’m sorry for standing you up like that. Why don’t you just tell me the address of the flower shop and I will make sure I get there myself?”

Rhyme’s blue eyes widen just a little in shock, but they nod. “Alright. Let me send you the address.”

⸶

“I’m not sure I get what you mean here, Neku.” Shiki types rapidly on her phone, eyes barely raised to look at her steps. “Are you trying to tell me that you are somehow a kind of a jack of all trades that have more powers than just activation-cross-deactivation power?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s the only relatively reasonable answer I could reach,” Neku said, taking lead as he rushes towards the alley in that weird dream. In that recollection.

“Hey! Are you sure it’s close to AMX and not somewhere el—”

“Believe me, I remember that.”

Shiki snorts, skipping casually by. “‘Remember’? Don’t you mean like, predict—”

She stops the gait as the sight of flowers flood her vision.

“Wait.” Shiki squints into the impending twilight. “This _is_ where the flower shop is?”

“That’s right.”

“But you didn’t even check the message Rhyme sent you—”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you in the past ten minutes.”

Shiki shuts her gaping lips. “I, I see. Still, I must say I haven’t expected this at all.”

She turns to Neku, squinting at his face instead. “So does that mean it really is possible? You possessing two powers?”

“It’s either that, or someone magically has the power of sending clairvoyant dreams to me or something.”

“Huh, this really is… Anyway,” Shiki takes a step into the flower shop. “We don’t have any more time to waste—”

Then she’s already stopped.

“What is it, Shiki?”

“Neku? Are you seeing the same pot of flower on the counter as I’ve seen?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a wisteria.”

Neku does turn to it then.

The pot of flower is indeed a wisteria, the distinctive bell-shaped petals flooding Neku’s vision with surprise.

Neku looks up at the receptionist at the counter, but that person there has raven-black hair instead of the cotton-white of that kid in the dream.

But most importantly, at even closer glance, Neku can see a piece of paper attached to the pot with his name.

The receptionist, who is presumably the shopkeeper that has never appeared in the dream, finally looks up from the counter and smiles.

“May I ask, are you Sakuraba Neku-kun?”

Neku steps up. “Yeah, I am.”

“That’s good. Here, someone has given me some instructions to hand you this pot of wisteria.”

“... Someone?”

“That might sound odd to you, but it’s true. Someone bought a pot of wisteria from us and told us to give it to a kid named Sakuraba Neku, with spiky hair and a pair of headphones. Oh, they also told us that they want you to read the note they attached carefully.”

Shiki raises her hand. “Um, so, do you mean Neku doesn’t even have to pay for it?”

“Nope! That person did already.”

Neku stares at the wisteria, hard, but the wisteria petals hold no answer for him to analyze.

“I see. Thank you for that.”

After they are done bringing the pot out, Shiki asks. “What does the note say?”

Neku takes a deep breath and hauls the pot a little bit higher. It’s either heavier than what he remembers of a pot of wisteria, or he really hasn’t been eating well. “I haven’t really read it.”

“Huh? But why?”

“First, we should get home as soon as possible. Second, haven’t you ever heard of privacy?”

Shiki sticks out her tongue. “Well, I guess you make a compelling argument this time! In that case, if it’s something that isn’t just for you personally and involves talks of EOs, remember to tell me tomorrow!”

“Got it, got it.” Neku smiles despite himself.

⸶

After a fleeting dinner of patchworked smiles and ‘I am fine’-s, Neku opens the note and reads on attentively.

The first thing that ticks off his warning alarm is the handwriting. It’s in the same rather beautiful cursive as the note from earlier, that one asking an apparently nonsensical question that implies the writer knows Neku is an EO.

The second thing is the actual content, though it gradually turns off the warning alarm rather than raises its volume louder:

_immense apologies on my behalf to have used my power on you earlier. i know you are also an extraordinary, but it was still preposterous of me to have accidentally used my own eo power on a fellow eo without any warning. my future vision shows me that you were trying to purchase wisteria, so i brought this for you as, hopefully, an adequate apology._

_if you like, we can be friends hopefully? i understand the temptation to stay as incognito as possible, but i do believe having one more ally is better than having none. if you agree, i hope to see you in the wildkat cafe on cat street by 4:30 pm tomorrow? if you refuse, please do know that i understand however. or if you just can’t make it at that time tomorrow, know that i practically live in the wildkat cafe._

_good day_

_(hopefully) your new friend_

The letter is so nicely-worded, that Neku almost completely forgets the content of the previous note. And the prospects of friendships… after Shiki, he can’t say it’s completely a sealed-off path.

And then he turns the letter over.

_p.s. oh, and before you want to raise any question on why i’m suggesting what you do in either case rather than just using my own future vision, hmm… i think i would answer that when you come along :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and a certain someone is going to make their debut :)c


	4. kannazuki - there are no gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for:
> 
>   * implied stalking (not the romanticised kind or stalker with a crush, just the regular kind of creepy stalking)
>   * gun violence (since You Know Who is involved)
>   * implicated unreality (no actual depiction of unreality has occurred, though Neku's narrative tone can come off a little bit Like That in the entire science class sequence)
>   * suicide (it's not the usual kind of actual voluntary suicide, but it's There. around the end of the science class scence)
> 


“Oh, Shiki, I have places to be this afternoon, so I guess we can’t hang out.”

Shiki frowns up from her phone screen. “Seriously? ‘You have places to be’? What kind of places could you possibly need to go now, Neku?”

Neku reflects on the note, formulating ways for him to explain to her the necessity of heeding to it, and yet… Who is he to disclose things like that? Who is he to even think about the possibility—

“It’s an important meeting I have with a friend, and he’s not very comfortable with other people he doesn’t know peeking in, so…”

Shiki squints at Neku, before letting a slight smile float up onto her face. “Ahh, let me guess, is it a date?”

Neku lets out an indignant sputter. “What, what the heck are you even—”

“You are stuttering! That must be true then!”

“Is not.”

“Is too!”

“Anyway,” Neku turns around, careful not to let a pout pop up. “I’m gonna be off then. Later.”

“Bye! Message me later about your date!”

Neku saves himself from further embarrassment by speeding up, leaving the school in hasty steps and running down the streets. It’s already 4:00, and even though Shibuya isn’t that big it is still pretty time-consuming to go down to as far as Cat Street.

Cat Street… There were quite a lot of stories on how this street gets this name, though some of them contain the humorous reasoning that it is because the legendary designer CAT has taken establishment there. It doesn’t sound particularly trustworthy, but Neku also hasn’t gone down to this part of Shibuya enough to dispute them ever. Well, maybe today’s a good day to find out.

****

⸶

****

Cat Street looks far more simplistic than Neku imagined. It has far fewer shops that line Shibuya streets with all flavours of merchandise, and it has perhaps only a small fraction of pedestrians as compared to where Neku and Shiki are used to patronising.

WildKat Cafe is also rather easy to locate, a somewhat small store with a remarkable name sign with gentle, swirly patterns adorning its cursive name. With only rather few customers inside, it’s not that difficult to see who he is coming for.

That flowing wreath of cotton white hair.

Neku tries to reflect on what he has learnt of the boy. How he has essentially gone from a nasty part-time worker earlier to an EO with the power of future vision and sending prophetic dreams. Seems too dramatic and nonsense of a plot progression even in life, but then again, weeks ago Neku has never thought suffering through the terror of nearly dying would give him supernatural powers.

Neku pushes open the door, causing the doorbell to give out a choppy wind-chime sound.

Which in turn alerts the boy to look at him.

“Hi there,” Neku feels goosebumps growing on his skin at just how terribly invisible his volume is, awkwardly slipping into the seat opposite to the boy. “So, you were the one who—”

“That rude part-time flower shop clerk, yeah,” the boy smiles, and Neku feels his heart skip a beat, not in a comfortable way. “Sorry things have gone like that. I didn’t intend to be rude, but it’s still my responsibility to have done something at the very least, I suppose. So, how’s the wisteria?”

“Oh, oh it’s, it’s pretty fine right now. I mean, I love it, it’s exactly what I need.”

“That’s great. That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

A silence starts developing between the chasm of the two boys. Neku fiddles with his fingers, scouring thoroughly around the corners of his lexicon that contains any specific vernacular for dreamy situations like this.

The boy takes a sip of his coffee, then stands up. “Shall we have a walk together? I reckon places like this one isn’t one for particularly private conversations.”

Neku lets out a harsh breath secretly, or as secretly as he could manage. “Oh, sure.”

****

⸶

****

Walking down Scramble Crossing for the millionth time isn’t the most entertaining thing they could do together, but there are some sparkles here and there on the periphery of Neku’s senses, dancing on the edges and urging him on.

“So,” Neku speaks up in a hopefully succinct but quiet enough voice. “I know technically your power is about future vision, but how exactly does it work? Is it unstable or—”

“For your first question, yeah, it is, and to your second, I don’t know.” The boy sniggers at that, like it’s a long-forgotten inside joke he just remembered. “I just recently turned into an EO and as far as I know, there’s absolutely no user manual on how one should be an EO, am I right?”

“No, there isn’t one.”

“I’d confess though, there are already several instances where my power goes off randomly. Seems like it’s a power that insistently puts others into future related to me.” The boy's eyes turn a little gloomy at that. “It’s a good thing that as far as I know my parents only write them off as their unique brand of nightmares, while other people wouldn’t care when they see things like that. Dreams have a way of visualizing weird things after all.”

Neku frowns deeper, his questions compounding and knocking against the corners of his mouth. “Then why me then? What do you know about me, and how do you know that I’m also like you?”

“That’s simple. It’s that peach lady.”

“... Peach lady?”

“Surely you remember her? She has a gun, short pink hair and stuff?”

_You were with that pink-haired woman from earlier, aren’t you?_

“Were you hunted by that woman too?”

“Can’t say I’ve been hunted, but I might have met her colleague. A guy with an orange ponytail or something along the lines of that. Some friend of mine told me that the lady is a partner of his.”

“That’d explain a lot.”

“Hmm? Don’t tell me, you managed to evade both of them, perhaps?”

Neku’s eyes widen. The boy’s eyes are sparkling with mischief and what is potentially admiration.

“Not… exactly. Actually, my case is pretty much the same as you, um… ?”

The boy stops walking. Turns to Neku.

“Oh, would you look at my horrendous manners?” He giggles and holds out a firm hand. “Name’s Kiryu Yoshiya. But, since you are a close friend of mine now, I suppose I will let you call me Joshua too.”

“Oh, nice to meet you. Name’s Sakuraba Neku.”

Joshua chuckles, a beat before Neku remembers it.

“I know your name already, silly.” Joshua drawls, though his smile remains equally brilliant. “I’m looking forward to being friends with you, Neku.”

There’s too much to unpack, but one thing, in particular, comes up. “So, about that postscript on the note.”

“Hmm?”

“About why you don’t just use your own power to foresee what I will do. So why? Why don’t you just use that? You’d already know how I’d be like, what I’d choose. Why bother giving me choices at all?”

Joshua stops walking, staring ahead. Neku stands next to him as inconspicuous as possible, looking his way and landing on the 104 Building.

“If we don’t even have choices, what makes us humans?”

****

⸷

****

_“Just in case it’s not clear enough, we aren’t really friends.”_

_They smiled, still topping their toy blocks away into a dilapidated castle. “Friends aren’t just people put together into the same situation, Neku. I think friends become friends because of their own choices!”_

_“That’s not true. If I have any choices at all, I wouldn’t be here playing so-called blocks.”_

_They put down the blocks then, and eyed Neku with burning flames that made him nervous._

_“Um… what is it?”_

_“Can you tell me what you would have done if you can choose not to be here then?” They asked._

_“Why do you care enough to ask?”_

_“Because we are friends!”_

_Neku did the most he could to ignore the blossoming smile on Their face and said. “Well, first of all, I would choose not to listen to any more noises in this world.”_

_“Noises in this world? What are ‘noises’ to you then?”_

_“Every single sound in this world, but particularly what people around me say to each other and say to me. Anyway, that doesn’t include all the beautiful music I’ve heard though.”_

_“Huh? Isn’t it weird to dislike the rest of the world and only like a few?”_

_“It’s not.” Neku frowned, but that only seemed to encourage Them._

_“But I mean it, Neku! Isn’t it weird to not like this world? This world is the only home you will ever know. Don’t you think it’s cruel to reject it?”_

_It’s way too early for an eight-year-old like Neku to consider questions like that, so he begrudgingly went silent._

_“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with giving myself choices in that respect.”_

_They blew a raspberry into the air, a loud popping sound that startled Neku into dropping his MP3 player. He scowled at Them._

_“You say you’d love giving yourself choices, but isn’t closing yourself off leaving you with no choices?”_

****

⸶

****

Neku goes to school the next day with a renewed fervour, rehearsing his script for what to tell Shiki today when she will inevitably bring up the topic of his ‘date’.

“So, how was yesterday’s da—”

“First, it’s not a date. Second, it went pretty well, for a meeting between old friends.” The lie rolls off of Neku’s tongue with ease. “It’s been some time since we got to talk like that, so there was a lot of catching-up and stuff.”

“Oh, I see. If that’s the case, why don’t you just tell me that yesterday?”

“Because you won’t stop telling me it’s a secret date I want to have. In secret.”

Shiki giggles again. Neku can’t help but notes with amusement that it's a vapid habit of hers. “Alright alright, I’m glad you’re making up with old friends and stuff. It kinda surprises me though, about how you actually have old friends.”

“Oh yeah. I guess pretty much everyone out there could only associate me with my best friend’s passing, even though it has nearly been a whole year.”

Shiki’s smile slopes back into twitching lips. “Ah, I understand that… the way people will make a big show out of everything…”

“... You sound like you’ve gone through the same kind of things.”

“Not really, it’s just… I probably could understand that kind of grief you might have with losing a friend. Just ‘probably’, though.”

The duo leans onto the concrete balustrade of the corridor, watching as kids of grades lower than them gather around for what looks like a game of catch ball.

“So how exactly is it like? To have a friend who shares the same interests with you so completely?”

That’s not a question Neku has ever expected from Shiki. “And how do you deduce that’s the case for me and my other two friends?”

“Well, I do have distant memories of you telling me that graffiti is your most important, number one interest. And it doesn’t take much digging to know they also liked graffiti.”

“Not too much digging?” The catch ball is launched towards the shortest kid on the team, and they dodge it with relative ease, even though the next moment they trip and falls onto the ground.

“Okay, of course, I definitely can’t catch onto what your other old friend’s interests could be since I have absolutely no idea who they are, but we all know… yeah, we all know them, in one way or another.”

Several kids crowd around the short kid, who smiles and brushes the dirt off their pants. “Know them, for things they don’t want to be remembered for, I guess.”

Shiki doesn’t note at how he has used the word ‘don’t’ instead. “I, I can’t say I understand that, but I do get the feeling of—”

“I need to go.”

Before Shiki can utter anything or make attempts to make him stay just a little longer, Neku dashes sideways into the library.

****

⸶

****

Library books are, unfortunately, only papers composed together to convey stories or facts that are more often than not hugely outdated or plain uninteresting. But Neku made his decision to come in here of all places, so he will be sticking here.

It’s funny. That earlier he has considered the mere possibility of talking his heart out, for real, with Shiki. Didn’t Shiki just say, like, how she has the same kind of experience as him regarding friends? But like how? Does he want to know? _Should_ he know?

Neku takes out his phone, checking for message notifications.

_Oh, by the way, you never answer my question, did you?_

Neku frowns at the question itself, scrounging every notch in his memory trying to recall whatever question that has ever been imposed on him. He couldn’t recall any, nor could him remember Joshua himself ever giving him any kind of question during their last meeting.

Unless he’s referring to—

Another message pops up.

_you know, that question about what makes us humans_

Neku types in response. **i’m pretty certain that was a rhetorical question. did you forget the whole line u said? ‘if we don’t even have choices, what makes us humans?’**

_tch, didn’t get you this time. i will try harder next time :)_

_so, how about you answer that question of mine anyway?_

**hmm, i’d love to, but—**

“Hey there.”

Neku startles, his thumb sliding towards the enter button before he could finish messaging. He looks to his right.

“Bito? Or do you prefer I call you Daisu—”

“Don’t. Don’t say that,” Beat slaps himself on the forehead, then rivets him, unimpressed. “Sakuraba Neku, right?”

“Yeah, the kid with the traumatic dead friend, what do you need?”

“Look, I know my baby sib', y’know, Rhyme? I know they are one of your friends now. Along with that girl, her name’s Shiki or something?” Beat punctuates the question with a rub to the back of his head, his eyes wandering around the shelves as if it strains him to look Neku head-on.

“Shiki. Yeah, so we are friends with Rhyme, what’s the big deal?”

Neku lets his words slip off like one would with a casual small talk, but for a moment Beat locks gaze right back with Neku, and Neku’s in the bend of that highway again, a deer in the headlights, watching as his faceless (nameless) loved one plunge themself (Themself) willingly into the gaping maw of the glaring, roaring engine—

“Sakuraba?”

“Huh?” Neku looks up. Beat has a hand on his right shoulder, and for a moment he’s severely tempted to bite it off. He shrugs it off instead. “Sorry. Zoned out. What did you say?”

“I was saying,” Beat crosses his arms, a slight dip of his brows indicating a developing frown, though it’s hard to decide whether it is for the difficulty on conveying his words or if Neku’s presence generally nauseates him. “That I’m trying my best not to be an overprotective older bro like Rhyme is telling me to, but I still feel like having a few words with you just in case.”

“Actually, I absolutely don’t mind if you skip that preamble and just tell me what the hell do you want.” Neku’s phone is burning in his trousers pocket. He could almost hear the shut-off notification sounds blasting centimetres away from his eardrums.

“I am going to. As much as I might have kinda an overprotective streak—”

“To the point. Please.”

“I really need you guys’ help to get them to talk to me again.”

Neku’s synapses short-circuit. Though he hasn’t spent even more than an entire school day or any other time with Beat, there’s an evident overprotective streak one could spot from him just at the way he quietly grits his teeth and balls his fists when Rhyme is talking to any stranger.

He had fully expected Beat to tell him to completely leave Rhyme and stop being his friend, and yet… ?

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

Beat glares towards a bookshelf to his right, as if its existence has caused some form of inconvenience to him. “That’s just… how Rhyme has been lately. Ever since this year, they’ve been trying to get away from me as often as possible, saying how I’m ‘smothering their social life’ or whatever… And it hurts to hear that, you know?”

Neku bites down a scalding remark threatening to rip up the little quiet he has in the library. “So, how does that relate back to me at all? It’s not like Shiki or I have a hand in making them stop talking to you.”

“Of course you don’t, but that’s just how they decided to be! They don’t talk to me at school, which is terrible enough, and they decide to completely ignore me at home too.” Beat says. “Normally this kind of situation couldn’t last any longer than a whole day, because at the very least Mom and Dad would try to talk them back into listening to me, but this time neither of them wants to help either!

“So… I know this sounds unreasonable, but since you and Shiki are friends with them, can you guys at least try to talk to them a bit to change their mind? I know that sounds super embarrassing and naive and generally just dumb, and I’ve never been one good with using my head…” Beat looks down onto the ground, punching at the shelf next to him to a steady rhythm. “So, I figured you guys are some of the only hopes I have, seeing you guys became friends lately.”

“I can’t say that is any kind of a good solution to your problems, but… I can ask Shiki to try to help, I guess.” Neku mentally gives himself the hardest kick possible. What kind of shit has he gotten himself into? In what ways is Beat entitled to his help at all?

Nevertheless, even as Neku has then promptly left the library, trading far more enjoyably infuriating banter with Joshua, Beat’s pleas and almost sad eyes have already been branded deep into the eigengrau of his mind.

****

⸶

****

“Huh? That almost sounds interesting, though I can’t say I don’t see the sense in it.”

Neku tilts his head, narrowed eyes focusing onto his lunch instead of Shiki’s expectant smile. “Really? In what ways does this request make sense at all?”

“Didn’t you say so yourself? Rhyme won’t talk to him at all, and their parents won’t help either. Obviously, there’s no one else to do all the persuading then.”

“But it doesn’t have to be us. Surely that Rhyme have more frie—”

“Oh, Neku, I see you are also sorely mistaken about a lot of things.” Shiki takes a huge sip out of her juicebox, but even in this angle, Neku could see the smugness in her close-lipped smile. “If you have decided to spend some more time with Rhyme other than just during lunch, which they want me to tell you is completely welcome and encouraged, you’d hear from them that they are virtually friendless, aside from the two of us.”

Neku’s spoon stops moving. “You are kidding.”

“I am not. Rhyme told me that they didn’t actually start going out of their way to make friends until this year, and that the two of us are actually the very first they managed to make at all.”

Neku takes a sip of his tea for comfort, but all that’s trickling into his throat is unease and discomfort. “So. This has to be our responsibility, somehow.”

“I know you probably don’t like that idea too much, Neku, but think about it. Maybe this is a good chance to befriend Beat too—”

“Do you care for nothing other than making friends?”

“I’m pretty sure we all care for friends in this world, Neku.” Shiki’s sideways smile almost feels sheepish. “That’s what every single one of us can’t get enough of. Recognition. Love. Approval of others. To feel less alone.”

“... I didn’t expect you of all people to go philosophical at me.” Neku abashedly made a mental note of not underestimating Shiki to himself. “Anyway, I’m not doing this weird stupid shit.”

“You say that, but I know ultimately you will help.”

“No. I. Won’t.” Neku lets the words cascade out of him with ease, but in their places other words flood back in.

_get away from me as often as possible… saying how I’m ‘smothering her social life’ or whatever… and it hurts to hear that, you know?_

“Neku?”

_And it hurts to hear that, you know?_

“Neku!”

Neku snaps his head back up. To his right, a somewhat baffled Rhyme is carrying their sandwiches and a milk box.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

“N—No, of course not.”

Silence takes prevalence in their table then, the only sounds available that of Rhyme munching on their sandwiches and tearing open their milk box. Shiki starts biting deliberately slower, her lips barely moving at all to chew her food, glancing at Neku and rapidly moving her line of sight between Neku and Rhyme.

Neku takes a deep breath and plunges. “Rhyme? I know I probably have been saying that for some time, or some time ago already… or something. But, I would just like to let you know that I really appreciate that time you get me to the flower shop. That gesture means far more than you could possibly imagine.”

With that, Rhyme made a small crinkly smile, along with a playful nod. “It’s really nothing, Neku. I would love to help any of my friends as much as possible.” They take an almost vicious bite of their sandwich, a few vegetables dangling off in the attempt. “I love the idea of being better than what my big brother makes me out to be.”

Shiki’s head mechanically raises up, an almost squinted glance at Neku. Neku imagines she’s mentally conveying something along the lines of _well, shit_.

“Um, well,” Neku said, giving himself two more kicks mentally at the ‘um’. “But friends can’t be around you all the time, you know? Sometimes, even I feel a little bit jealous of people who at least have siblings around them to talk to.”

“I understand that too, though I must warn you, Sakuraba-kun, to not be jealous of the people who have siblings who don’t understand them or respect them at all at any basic level.”

“Uh, Rhyme?” Shiki scratches the back of her head, looking everywhere around her as if her surrounding would tell her what to say. “I guess… You are really angry with Beat or something?”

Rhyme puts down their sandwiches with some considerable force.

“Let me guess a little bit. Beat has asked— no, let me find the appropriate word— he _demanded_ you guys to help convincing me to talk to him again.”

Shiki puts her chopsticks down, sitting as stiff as possible. “... Yeah. He did.”

“Just tell him you guys did your best already, and I will deal with the rest.”

Shiki’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean, Rhyme? Are you seriously going to stop talking to him?”

“Beat is just exaggerating. You guys don’t have to worry about what goes on between us. Us siblings always have some ways to solve this out.”

“I guess that is so…” Shiki glances back towards Neku, the most forced smile possible aimed at him with a cutthroat gesture.

“I see, Rhyme. I understand that. I hope you guys reconcile soon.”

Shiki bristles, and if not for Rhyme’s presence Neku could tell she would have barrelled into him, fists raised, or at least scream his head off.

“Thank you for understanding, guys.” Rhyme wipes their lips, and promptly packs up the rest of the remains of their lunch, hurrying away on their way.

****

⸶

****

“Neku,” Shiki draws out the sibilants with a sharp nudge to his shoulders. “Why didn’t you keep on? Don’t you think we probably could have a chance to—”

“It’s no use,” Neku said. “Surely you can feel it too. The fact that they haven’t stopped talking about Beat implicitly the moment we started talking with them.”

“But don’t you feel even a little bit bad about Beat?”

“I do, but I don’t automatically know everything about them, or know enough to have a bearing on their relationship. Beat and Rhyme have sibling issues that surely only they understand what goes wrong.” Neku explains, lying down onto the drawer staring at his open homework. Next class is science, and there’s absolutely zero urge in Neku to play with mixing chemicals like the teacher always makes the class out to be.

Shiki stomps the ground a little, a small pout bulging on her cheeks before she exhales harshly and nods. “Fine. I still think it would’ve been better if we have tried harder, but I do think what you said makes sense too. In that case, let’s drop that and let them make their own amends.”

Neku raises his head back up from the homework, his mouth a little agape. “To be quite honest, I didn’t think you’d agree with me.”

“Right, because I totally look like that kind of girl who just runs around demanding everyone to march to her drums or something. Nah. That’s not me.”

With that, Shiki leaves the classroom, a little toothy smile with a promise to message later dancing on it.

Somehow, Neku could almost feel a seedling of warmth planting itself comfortably at the back of his mind, waiting its turn to sprout.

****

⸸

****

As Neku has predicted preemptively, this science lesson is destructively boring. The teacher draws out on pronouncing the names of every chemical introduced in the class, as if any quicker would speed his heart up to the point of deathly explosion. And just to drive in how much slower he is, the teacher turns on the Bunsen burner slow, pours the chemical into the mixing cup slow, and writes down the modal observational thesis slow.

Ah. How he would do absolutely anything to escape.

“And now, I expect you all to divide into groups and try to emulate this experiment to the same degree. However, don’t expect that you can just copy everything I just wrote…”

Everything said floats right into one ear and out the other, Neku dribbles ink back along the spine of his sketchbook, determined to get away with doodling in class instead of complying with whatever demands the science teacher asks of. To hell with all these damned chemicals. To hell with all the grades while he’s at it. Right now all that circulates in his mind is the—

“Sakuraba-san,” a high shrill voice smiles, imprints dirty tracks across Neku’s mood. “Are you being left all alone again? Why don’t _I_ be your partner for this lesson?”

Neku swallows down his bile, pressing down cascades of putrid black cholera from erupting in the face of whoever it is that has just spoken to him. “Sure.”

Neku takes a look of the ‘volunteer’ while he’s at it, noting down the student’s thick black frames and facial muscles that hopefully have been locked in pain from maintaining that condescending smile. “Name’s Mioda.”

“Hi, nice working with you.” Hell will freeze over before he has to address this cretin by name. Neku takes out the Bunsen burner and plugs it in quick, determined to have a blue flame blowing before Smartass can earn even more bragging rights by doing this part as well.

“Alright, Neku, which parts of the chemicals would you like to work with first before we get to the more advanced part?”

Neku props up a smile. “Why, I don’t mind getting to the—”

Smartass’s smile drops. For all real intents, it drops, for a long-lasting moment where there almost seems to be a genuine concern on his face. “Oh, Neku, I didn’t think of this earlier…”

“I don’t know what you are playing at—”

“Oh, I’m not playing at anything, Neku, I’m just referring to the fact that you literally didn’t _even_ have your safety goggles on yet! That’s a lab hazard, you know that right?”

A stymieing patch of scarlet uncoils across Neku’s cheeks, and he walks to the back of the lab to fetch one. Even if it’s this far away, he could hear the stifled laughter trailing behind him, the pungent stink of their contempt for him contaminating every inch of his lungs.

He opens the cabinet with a little more force before the uproarious bout of laughter exploding behind him reminds him; the safety goggles are placed in front of the blackboard, not at the cabinet with all the experiment sets and Bunsen burners. He curses himself, slams shut the doors, turns around with teeth bared—

—when in front of him stands an apparition amidst the shadows in the back doors.

Neku freezes. He couldn’t help it, seeing the very human-shaped, very alive illusion of someone he used to know. He couldn’t explain it, but cascades of everything he had wanted to say, has prepared to say, have blockaded his throat.

“...”

“...”

“I—”

The person comes out of the shadows just as Neku comes up with a pathetic proclamation ready, and Neku finds himself embedded into the workings of a nightmare he couldn’t have dreamt up of his own machinations.

That isn’t They. It’s only someone with Their face on, though the craftsmanship of the mask is impressive enough that without looking too closely with sufficient light as it is now, surely everyone would’ve made the same mistake as Neku of thinking the mask-wearer being Them.

But most alarming of all, They— this masquerader of They— have a gun in their hands.

The sound of glass-shattering has never been this terrifying, but it is and all of a sudden, in a heartbeat, everyone has turned to Neku’s general direction, not to join in the parade of scorn, but to scream.

Screams. The teacher shouts for the students to leave, to immediately find cover, and most of all he calls for Neku to run. “The next shot could be on you!”

Neku’s feet stay planted though, and he could embarrassedly feel his hands trembling. Nothing else is imprinted onto his retinas, except the sight of someone who wore a mask of They, aiming a gun at his chest.

They (the masquerader) takes a step. The gun barrel is closer to his heart by several centimetres.

Neku isn’t exactly sure when it has happened, but before he knows it, apocalypse descends, as the lights overhead all shut down, flash, then shut down again. He could smell the strong scent of the Bunsen flame and saw out of his peripherals as the blue flame appears again and again.

All flames are snuffed out of lives in the end. Everything is plunged into darkness.

Somewhere outside in the corridors, the fire alarms ring.

Neku wonders if the teacher has decided to abandon him after realizing it’s hopeless for him to run, to escape from the furore and mania of this masquerader, but he can’t feel himself thinking anymore, because before another thought could make it halfway across another synapse the gun barrel is on his chest and his heart—

****

⸸

****

“Sakuraba-san? Have you not slept enough last night?”

“Huh!” Neku sits up straight from his work table, snapping his head back up towards the screen. The science teacher is standing right in front of him, a confused look behind his safety goggles.

“Sakuraba-san? If you do feel unwell, I’d highly recommend you go to the nurse’s office. It would be detrimental to your health if you continue to—”

“I’m fine.” Neku hisses through his gritted teeth, and the teacher gives another perplexed look over him before turning back to the blackboard and his presentation of the test they need to perform next in class.

Neku sits rigidly, painfully straight, feeling a chill climbing down his spine gradually.

That prophetic dream… Joshua? Did he send that? Is he trying to warn him something?

In his memory, the two of them have discussed on their own powers, though Neku remains as vague as possible as to what ‘activation/deactivation’ means exactly. With that said though, Joshua was strangely open about disclosing details on his power.

Sometimes his power does leak out prophetic dreams to other people accidentally, perhaps due to being intensely emotional for a length of time. Those people might be unfortunate enough to sense them again if Joshua has decided they are potential friends or something along the lines of that.

It would be one thing if Joshua has been trying to warn him, but since his power is sending the dreams randomly and not performing said action due to knowing the future, it seems rather dangerous to see that he has such a damningly grim future ahead of him.

Neku pays unusual attention to the science lesson then, and sure enough, everything develops accordingly, dreadfully accurate to the dream. The teacher turns on the Bunsen burner slow, and mixes the chemicals slow, and writes down the modal thesis answer slowly.

Later, that other guy, what’s his name…? Right, Mioda the Smartass would be coming in and telling him to go grab a pair of safety goggles, then laughs at him for not realizing that they aren’t placed in the cabinet and directs him back to the table outside.

Fine, so why don’t he just—

“Sakuraba-san, do you mind stepping out this class for a short talk?”

Neku startles, nearly screaming out loud before he could direct his actual next move. He gazes towards the source of the voice.

Standing at the entrance of the lab is a man of stout build, somewhere around his forties. Even as Neku sits as far away as the left-most table on the second row, it’s unmistakable to who the man is.

“Principal? How may I help you?” The science teacher grins, though the forced smile looks more like how one would wince from pain rather than a genuinely happy one.

“I need to have some words with Sakuraba Neku-san over there. He is immediately needed, as the state of the emergency is rather urgent in nature.”

The science teacher frowns, but he quickly waves for Neku to follow the Principal. Neku looks at his notebook, his pen, and the Smartass, then makes up his mind to just follow.

Outside of the lab, Neku scrounges around every inch of his brain before he comes up with a relatively plausible course of action. _Turn off his eyes, then runs back to the lab to ask for help._ That way it won’t look weird as to why he needs to run back to the lab as they are the only class being conducted on this floor as of the moment, and he could go back to confront the shooter.

However, Neku’s premature plan melts down into nothingness as the Principal’s face melts away, replaced by a far more petite, feminine face.

“Shiki?”

“Neku, I know this looks crazy, but listen,” Shiki keeps a shushing gesture hovering between them, then puts it back down with a stressed sigh. “I have no idea who did this— okay, actually it’s more like I do know who, but I still don’t believe it at this moment— someone sent me a small memo saying that they saw Kariya. You know, that orange-haired guy with the ponytail from weeks ago? That guy?”

Neku forgets about the shooter completely. “What about him?”

“Well, that memo claims that the writer has spotted that guy creeping into the school.” Shiki chokes back what sounds suspiciously like a sob. “I’m scared, Neku. I don’t know why he waited till now to look for us, and I don’t know what else I can do so I pretended to be the principal to—”

“To come fetch me, I got it.” Neku holds out his hands onto Shiki’s shoulders, as they wreck with tremors from what looks like the beginning of an actual breakdown. “Look, Shiki, I need you to stay with me right now. Because I also have something of an equally large proportion of terrible—”

“I didn’t even tell you the sender yet.” Shiki snivels quietly, but that sentence booms like dynamite in Neku’s ears. “At first, I didn’t want to believe it, but—”

“It’s your old friend?”

“No! I would’ve just started crying of joy then!” Shiki clubs Neku in the left shoulder to punctuate her point, but then she returns to her gloomy tone. “It’s Rhyme.”

“No way.” Neku retorts. “How the fuck could it possibly be—”

“I don’t want to believe it either, but she said she has the power of past vision. She could see things that happened in the past.”

“That’s co—”

“It’s not! If she determined that I am an EO and warn me accordingly then that could only mean either one of us has done something to expose ourselves!” Shiki crosses her arms tightly around herself, desperately trying to stop the intense tremors wracking through her body to no avail. “Oh, what can we do what can we—”

“Shiki, we gotta stay calm right now.” Then, seeing that Shiki is still mumbling and shaking, he pats her on the back several times, trying to soothe her down. “I know things look super bleak right now, but maybe in some ways, we can go and try to—”

A shot.

Behind them, a carcass with a shock of orange hair lies down onto their face.

****

⸸

****

Neku’s face pales.

Behind the carcass, somewhere just a little further away along the corridor, the shadow of a kid their age with a mask of Their face just lets their hand slide back down.

The gun barrel on the slackened hand is smoking.

Shiki stops moving around. “Neku?”

“Yeah?”

“Who… Is that dead guy Ka… Kari—”

Shiki never gets to finish what she wanted to say, because the next moment a bullet grazes its way past her left shoulder, and Shiki lets out a pained scream.

“Shiki!” Neku attempts to grab on Shiki’s waist to support her, but Shiki’s form glitches out in a second’s notice, her peach-pink hair replaced by plain brown bow cut for a moment.

“Shiki, can you… Please don’t…” Neku finds his voice dying out by every aspirant, the strength in his voice fading just like how Shiki’s pulse runs slower and slower, fading into— “You can’t just—”

Why should he even care? Why does he care now? Why does this scenario look like something straight out of his past nightmares— no, memories—no, _trauma_ — and why is he here again? Because he is still completely powerless?

No. He’s better than that weakly weeping kid.

Neku watches the green velvet drape-like dress flicker in and out of existence, and he concentrates. He couldn’t heal, but affording Shiki the appearance she wants is still the least he could do.

With the pink locks and newsboy cap coming back, Neku rushes to fish his phone out— where the hell was everyone in the science lesson? It’s highly likely they’ve run and called the police, but still— But before Neku could even input the first number the shooter has shot his phone right out of his hand.

Before Neku could continue to whatever step his mind could conceive of at the moment, the shooter bows down to him from a distance. “Greetings. I think there’s no more necessity of this senseless violence at this point, now that I have gathered all the information I need.”

That voice. Neku has heard it somewhere.

Neku has heard it in a cafe, a dreamy cafe on a street patronized by hipsters and all the people Neku could’ve called his own.

Neku has heard it in a voice message just a few hours earlier.

“Though I must admit, as much as I favour guns to take these matters in hand, it’s still the last resort in my arsenal, so I apologize again for going to this extreme length, Neku.”

“Who are you,” Neku asks, even though he already knows the answer. He’s still unconsciously stepping back, his sneakers crunching past something soft. Like fabric. “Who are you and what are you doing?”

“Surely, everything going on right now should be a good enough clue to all your answers. Though I’d admit, the part about my motivation might be fuzzier. I get that.” A pale hand snakes its way onto the mask, but the shooter keeps it frustratedly in place. Neku sneaks a glance down and, sure enough, it is the same identical lavender-grey shirt, except with blood tinted here and there.

“There are lots I would love to know,” Neku tries to keep his voice calm, as he stops pacing back and starts walking forward instead, some small parts of him determined to appear undaunted. “Just because I have ideas on who you might be doesn’t mean anything if I don’t know what the hell you are doing here.”

“Oh, my dear Neku, didn’t I just say I understand that? I didn’t say anything about not talking, did I?” The shooter scratches the back of their head with the gun barrel, and for a blazing moment Neku wishes the gun goes off. “It’s simple, really. I didn’t trust you before. When I told you everything about my power you’ve hidden bits and bits of yours away. So what better things I could do other than testing everything out myself?”

“If that’s all true, there’s no way the power you claimed to have is real either, is it?” Neku chokes back a building scream, forcing himself to focus, to fortify. “I guess that makes us fair. Neither of us had been honest after all.”

“Right. But now that you have, I’d give you credit for finally showing off every iota of yours. Or shall I say… Only a fraction of it?” The shooter tears off the mask at long last, letting bundles of his chiffon grey hair down along his scalp and tired violet eyes. “I’m sure you must have wanted to show off more since you did manage to use your power not when you are overruled by emotions just now. That’s one interesting feature I will remember. For the next, I suppose you would love to take part.”

“What are you talking about?” Neku shouts, but it’s too late to issue the enquiry, as the gun barrel is firmly pressed into the shooter’s right temple.

“There, satisfy my curiosity one more time.” That sly grin is deeply seared into Neku’s retinas, those lips and teeth that seem to have composed a possible friend with the sweetest beam, how these have transformed into something beastly like this, Neku couldn’t formulate any answer— “Can your power turn off a mechanical machine and an EO power at the same time?”

“Joshua, I don’t kn—”

Neku never gets to even feel his own voice taking any kind of shape, as the loud boom of a bullet cutting through someone’s skull pounds loud and clear through his eardrums, and everything is on a blazing heat melting everything in existence into nothing—

****

⸶

****

“Neku?”

Neku shoots out of his drawer, looking around him, three syllables nearly tearing their ways out of his throat before he locks eyes with who is standing in front of him.

A Shiki with a half-worried, half-mischievous expression, and Rhyme who looks as thoughtful as they always seem to be.

“So, Earth’s signal to space cadet Neku finally works!” Shiki gives Neku a playful punch on his right shoulder. “What were you dreaming about, O’ Grand Dreamer?”

Grand Dreamer? Neku could only wish that everything was just all a dream. “I need to have some words with Rhyme.”

Before Rhyme could give any distressed signal of disagreement, Shiki steps in with a frown. “Um, so, you mean you want me to—”

“No. Stay— I mean, like, let’s move somewhere else to talk.”

Neku walks out of the classroom as speedily as he could, and despite his most cynical beliefs Shiki and Rhyme did follow him, both sharing glances with each other as if that would solve their enquiries. As if that could stop everything that is going to happen.

Neku racks his brains in another impossible attempt to process and recall everything he has just experienced. Kariya in their school. Joshua specifically wearing a mask of someone who has caused immense trauma to him. Joshua testing his EO abilities.

Joshua committing suicide in front of—

“Neku? What exactly do you need the two of us for?”

Shiki and Rhyme stare at him hard, the both of them looking as if ready to just bolt away from him and ask for the quickest available help from around the school.

“I just—” _He can’t be wrong about this, he can’t—_ “Rhyme, if you can view the past for sure, can you see a man with an orange ponytail, a pair of pink shades and, probably brings along something like a taser or a gun, walk into our school?”

Rhyme’s concerned eyes expand to a dread-filled shock.

Shiki’s voice dribbles out like chopped-up laughter sound bites used on unfunny sitcoms. “Ha, ha, ha, that is soooooo funny of a joke, Neku! How long have you went on designing it—”

“I’m serious, Shiki. Rhyme, did you see that guy? Can you see that guy with your power?”

Rhyme looks low to the ground like a child just found guilty of stealing a cookie from the family platter. Then they heave a huge sigh. “Alright. Just lemme try.”

Shiki’s jaw might have dropped somewhere into an entirely different dimension, but Neku has no time to examine that. Right now, all he could do is staring fixedly at Rhyme as they closed their eyes and focuses onto something, something in the streaming past that certainly he could not be privy to the details of.

Another minute passes, and Rhyme opens their eyes. “You are right. This guy you call Kariya, with the description you just gave… He had appeared in this school.”

Shiki shakes her head slowly. “No way.”

“But don’t worry about it.” That small astute smile Rhyme usually has on returns with full force, almost with a faint hint of schadenfreude. “Even though he had made his way into this school, I have also seen that he hadn’t made much, if any, advance in breaching the school’s security at the very least. The security guards have gotten him already.”

Shiki lets out a sigh of relief, slumping slightly before she snaps herself up straight again. “Wait a second. Wait just a goddamned second. What the hell is it with Neku knowing that you have… Past vision power?”

Rhyme’s lips quirk up, their hands up in the air with a shrug. “That I don’t know. I do plan to ask him to explain that right now, preferably.”

With that, the two of them turn to Neku, both with expectant and hesitant eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the first gateway back to the trench has been opened... 
> 
> sorry i haven't updated much lately aaa assignments/finals season is here lol. nevertheless i still do have a lot of ideas abt this au (maybe even more than what i have for unbridled rn tbh) and if possible i'm still gonna keep regularly update it as much as possible. 
> 
> this chapter is actually one of my own personal faves!! u can treat it as a turning point of such, or perhaps more like the chapter where all the important players of season 1 have finally entered the stage. how many seasons are there? idk just yet, tho i have a faint idea that this fic might have around 24 chapters if i can manage it, covering the events of 1 year in this twewy x vicious au. 
> 
> i hope yall have enjoyed this chapter!!!! things are only going to get wilder in this fic. comments and kudos are appreciated!!


	5. shimotsuki - truths buried beneath frosts

Beat didn’t get to have many chances of cleaning up the room at all when he got the message from Rhyme and all but drops his skateboard onto the ground again.

“Daisukenojo! How many times have I told you not to try skateboarding in the house?”

“Mom! I just dropped it by accident!”

“I don’t care! You dropped it, that must mean you’ve been planning to skateboard to have picked it up in the first place.” The thunderous pacing scrunching up the stairs boom into every inch of Beat’s eardrums, and it takes everything in him not to panic immediately.

“Mom! I was trying to tidy up the room because Rhyme’s calling our friends over!”

Mom slams open the room door just as Beat said so, but the fury in her eyes are quick to dissipate, as she watches from the threshold a scene of Beat picking up all the dirty socks from the floor and sorting them back into the wardrobe.

She scratches her chin, walking into the midst of the chaos. “You… you really were cleaning up the room?”

“Yeah, mom. Dunno if Rhyme had messaged you yet but they said they were going to get their new friends to spend time with.”

Beat smiles the brightest smile he could, and gradually Mom’s frown decreases into nothing. “Alright. I’m gonna check with Raimu themself. And don’t keep up that ‘Rhyme’ nickname, it’s so confusing.”

Mom walks back out of the room to call Rhyme, and Beat takes the opportunity to peek into his phone to read the message again as quickly as possible:

_i’m taking shiki and neku to our house we have urgent matters to discuss_

_try to keep ur vol down when we told u abt what we discovered today_

What sort of a warning message is that? Beat could already feel sweat forming on his forehead just rereading the message again. And again. And again until he heard the beep that signifies the end of a phone call and bends down to assume the position of picking up trash again.

“Alright, Raimu did just confirm that she’s going to have friends over. I’m glad you kids are having friends. Make sure they don’t mess up the room too much whatever you are doin', a’ight? Oh, also you can take some snacks for them in the cupboard. There are cakes in the fridge too. Make sure you make them feel welcome, as per our proud Bito traditions, alright?”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

⸶

Rhyme looks at the layout of their room; against some kind of miracle, their room is actually free of lying socks and laundry and textbooks and skateboards for once. Just to cement the surprise, Beat even got four slices of strawberry cakes on the table.

“There, what exactly the hell is going on?” Rhyme could feel the obvious tension rolling off Beat’s back, his every word tinted with suspicions and fears. “What do the three of you need to tell me about?”

Rhyme looks back at Neku and Shiki, who both look at her with varying degrees of apprehension and misery. Shiki’s grabbing her duffel bag to the point that her knuckles are uncomfortably porcelain white, while Neku continues to fidget relentlessly, looking around while his hands stay strewn up in his pockets.

Rhyme takes a deep breath. “Just. Promise me you won’t scream no matter what, okay?”

“Right, Rhyme, just get to it.”

Rhyme takes another deep breath just for good measure. “Neku and Shiki found out I’m an EO.”

“Wha—” Beat screeches, though his lips are promptly stoppered by Neku’s pale white fingers.

“I’m serious. But just to set your mind a little calmer, neither of us leaks any kinds of tells. Neku has his way of finding out.” Rhyme turns to Neku on cue, gesturing for him to step forward. “I think it would be better if you let Neku do the explaining himself. He personally thinks it would be safer if all four of us EOs listen in on this together.”

Then they walk away, ushering Neku to step up himself.

“Um… So…” Neku coughs, his fingers twirling around each other as if that would form words adequate enough for the situation. “This… is going to sound absolutely bonkers and weird and unreal—”

“Well, I mean,” Beat slaps on his thighs, getting up from the bed with his arms on his waist. “All four of us here have gone through something traumatic and nearly takes away our lives, and yet all four of us are still here, alive and kicking. And we got powers and shit. That’s already plenty of weird, so I’m ready for whatever other kinds of weird you have prepared.”

A faint smile forms on Neku’s countenance, along with a slight bush on both cheeks. “Well… Yeah, that’s exactly it. Anyway, this all goes down onto a certain kid who’s also an EO that I met earlier.”

“Is that the old friend you mentioned meeting earlier?” Shiki asks.

“No… Actually, I have that I need to apologize to you too, Shiki,” Neku looks further away from Shiki, towards the corner instead, and there’s no doubt to what’s the primary reasons that drive those flushes this time. “I didn’t meet another old friend. It’s a new friend. You know, that kid who bought the wisteria for me?”

Shiki’s frown gets deeper and deeper until she lets out a gasp, realization flooding in. “Oh! You mean, that day when Rhyme told you about where to go to buy wisteria and there’s already someone who bought you a wisteria along with a note on it?”

“Yeah. It involves that person who sent the note. Remember when I joked about how I totally have two powers? I don’t. It was that sender’s power.”

Shiki looks far more perplexed than before. “That person who sent you the flower has the power of sending clairvoyant dreams or something?”

“At first, that’s what I believed too.” Neku stands up from his seat, pacing around a small corner of the bedroom and evading to step onto Beat’s skateboards by inches. “That it was the sender, and that the sender wants to be friends with me. I met him the next day, and that boy calls himself Joshua. He’s friendly. Sounds like an airhead some time, but he looks earnest and… almost harmless.”

Shiki runs her hands through her bangs, her voice barely audible. “And I thought you did promise me to talk about anything related to EOs…”

“And I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Neku interrupts, almost snaps in some ways. “I admit… I was fooled. Completely befuddled by his act. I didn’t realize he has far more sinister motives for approaching me.”

“So what exactly did he do? And you still didn’t explain how you found out Rhyme and I are EOs.”

Neku frowns at that. “Actually, I never even found out you are an EO specifically… That was all Rhyme’s and your own admissions just now.”

“... Oh.”

“Anyway. As I was saying, that guy looked friendly at first, right? He told me everything about how his power works. Lied about it— in rather elaborate ways.” Neku’s eyes darken. “He told me that his EO power is clairvoyance, though it also mainly manifested in the manner of sending prophetic dreams to people related to his future. If he was intensely emotional for that time, he might also accidentally send dreams to people not even related to him.

“What mainly went down today is what finally woke me up from his lies. I was in a science lesson. Just when I was trying to look for some equipment, a shooter with a hyper-realistic mask went in and started shooting up everywhere in the classroom, though they didn’t exactly shoot anyone up in particular, though they ended up shooting me. Then I woke up from it.”

“Hold on. Do you mean that it was just a prophetic dream that Joshua guy sent you?”

“Basically, that’s what I thought at that time.” Neku continues. “I thought that was a dream he sent me in some ways, maybe to warn me that some deranged shooter is going to kill me, though I don’t understand how it worked, because according to the laws he worked out neither applies, unless, of course…”

Rhyme nods solemnly, their lips pressed firmly as if reluctant to answer. “Unless Joshua is that shooter.”

“Right. I should’ve already considered that, except I was panicking too much at that time. After I woke up, I tried to formulate a plan to counter the shooter’s action, except then Shiki stepped in and grabbed me away— Shiki’s power is transformation, by the way, so she turned into the Principal to fetch me.”

Shiki flashes a victory gesture at Beat. “Nice to meetcha, for real.”

“That fake Shiki told me that Kariya got into the school,” Neku pauses at that interval, taking into the sudden increased level of tension in everyone’s posture. “Except… When we walked out, we found that Kariya had already been shot down by that shooter, then the shooter killed Shiki.”

“Huh?” Shiki abruptly shoots up from her seat, staring hard into Neku’s face. “I got killed? How much did that Joshua guy hate me?”

“That’s not what really… Anyway, in that last few moments where you look like your EO power is fading away, I forcefully reactivated it, out of my own reasons that I hoped you are not going to ask.”

“Right, I totally won’t. Continue!”

“So that shooter, upon seeing me using my own power on Shiki, decided to finally reveal who they are; which, I guess anyone could guess it at this point. But it’s what comes next that really woke me up to how fucking bonkers Joshua is.”

Rhyme sits a little closer. “Which is?”

Neku’s voice completely shatters into nothing for just those few seconds, his chest heaving rapidly. “I woke up again. That’s how I realize it. He’s been lying to me about his power. He couldn’t possibly be sending clairvoyant dreams or anything like that.”

“Not to doubt you or anything, Neku… But you still haven’t explained how you know Rhyme is an EO.” Beat implores.

“Oh, right. Back when that fake Shiki grabbed me out of the classroom because she found out Kariya was in the school, it was Rhyme who told her. Rhyme has the power of past vision, so they found out Kariya had gotten into the school somehow.”

Rhyme lets out a sharp exhalation at that, slumping back into their bed. “Thank you. For telling me I didn’t do anything weird that clues you in I am an EO. That would be really bad, as I’m sure you understand.”

“Yeah. That’s about everything I know and have experienced today.” Neku sits back down hard on his seat, eyeing the slice of strawberry cake longingly. “Now, if you guys don’t mind, I’m going to enjoy the one singular good thing that is going to happen to me today.”

“Right, as you like.” Rhyme turns back to address the other two. “The thing is, it seems like Sakuraba-kun has no idea what exactly this Joshua is capable of, and it could be that most of our EO identities would be compromised in this way if we are not careful. It’s certainly relieving to hear that neither Beat nor I give out any tells, but still… To hear that this certain Kariya guy had really made attempts to break into the school…”

“It’s me and Neku,” Shiki cups her cheeks and releases a huge sigh, throwing her chin onto the table with a resounding thud. “This Kariya has tried to hunt both of us down before. I had one run-in with him, and I only managed to get away because I used my power to imitate thin air. The second time though, Neku managed to turn his sight off—”

“Let me get this straight too. Neku’s power is to turn on and off other people’s biological functions, electrical appliances and whatnot, and he’s able to turn on and off an EO’s power too?”

“Seems to be so.”

“And Shiki’s power is to imitate things and people.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Right. I think you guys, in turn, should hear about how Beat’s power works. Beat, tell ‘em.”

“Right, right.” Beat takes out a laptop adorned with what looks like gemstone stickers on the cover along with quote stickers and places it onto his lap. “You don’t mind me using this, Rhyme?”

“Of course I don’t. Take it.”

Beat boots up the laptop and instantly the four are greeted with a rather darkened screen and Beat clicks onto the default browser, a photo-manipulation software, and a sound-editing software.

“I’m not sure what we are doing here?”

“Count up how long it takes my laptop to process all these.”

Shiki moves her confused glance back to the laptop, and silently obliges Rhyme’s peculiar request. One, two, three, four…

All in all, as the sound-editing interface pops up eventually, it takes the laptop around two minutes to completely open up all three applications.

“Alright, so we know you guys have a slow laptop,” Neku deadpans from behind, small wisps of cream still embellished upon his lips as he lazily moves up to get a closer look on the screen himself. “So what’s next?”

“Watch this,” Beat turns off the laptop, then turns it on once more, and before more questions and snarky remarks can come out of Shiki and Neku, Beat establishes a firm stare at the laptop screen.

Beat focuses on the laptop then, fixing the screen with an intense gaze that Shiki isn’t sure if it would ever break. Rhyme looks on with moderate expressions of satisfaction.

Slowly, the darkened, almost broken graphics of the screen lights up little by little, as if the screen itself is renovated.

“Now, you guys can try to repeat the process just now.”

“Um, I’m not sure how the hell did your power work at all?” Shiki closes the laptop to examine the stickers on its cover, then looks below the laptop, and between the dusty gaps of the keyboard. Nothing. Nothing changed.

Rhyme gives Shiki’s shoulder a small pat. “How about this, you just follow what I said just now, and turns on the browser and the two editing software again?”

Maintaining her dubious expression, Shiki did so, three clicks sounding off the mousepad.

In less than ten seconds, all three software pop up accordingly.

Shiki looks back to Beat, who now has a rather snobbish look on his face. “You are a technopath?”

“Ah, no actually,” Beat breaks gaze with the laptop and starts scratching the back of his head, almost embarrassed, and the laptop darkens back to its earlier state. “I have the power of controlling the quality of something’s operations. It’s kinda like Sakuraba’s power, except I can only make something get better or worse, and I can’t do that to something, like electrical appliances and EO powers, that have been shut off already.”

“Huh, so it’s almost a nice complement to my power.” Neku remarks offhandedly, watching the flickers of the screen.

“Thanks. Anyway, I suppose we need to get back on topic once more then?”

Neku lets his plate and fork fall back down onto the table with a heavy thud. “Right. Let’s talk about Joshua once more. I vote we hunt him down.”

“Vote him down? Then kick the shit out of him?” Beat asks.

“ _Beat,_ ” Rhyme whispers in a warning tone, then beams brightly at Neku. “Look, Sakuraba-san, I understand this situation has been stressing you out, but… I don’t think it’s a good idea to try reaching back out so rashly.”

“Why? This guy pretends to be my friend when all he wants is to test my power! No EO would go to any length to reveal themselves, so why is he doing this to me? Is anything I’ve experienced back then even real?” Neku claws at his own scalp, messing up the position of his headphones. “What the hell could he possibly want with me? And how does he know so much about me alrea—”

“What?” Shiki turns back to stare at Neku. “What do you mean by that, that he knows so much about you already?”

The room goes deathly silent, save for the noises of Neku’s quiet heavings that border on resembling choked sobs.

“Nothing. I’m just surprised and all.”

Shiki looks as if ready to pursue the subject, but without another word of protest, she purses her lips into understanding silence, conveying it through a small squeeze of Neku’s left hand.

“Look, guys, I don’t think it’s necessary to take way too many actions yet if you guys aren’t comfortable with it.” Rhyme said. “It’s fine if you guys want to just. Let it go for now. Take some breaks. I don’t think any of us is somehow just obliged to—”

“No, we aren’t,” Neku interrupts, his voice tinted with vitriol. “Maybe the three of you aren’t, but I am. I’m the idiot that buys into Joshua’s lies and lets him play around with me. I don’t know what exactly the hell does he want, but I don’t think he’s your average friendly EO teenager who wants to befriend other EOs genuinely for protection. I gotta do something about him.”

“What do you have in mind though? Just look him up again and beat him up?” Shiki asks dejectedly. “Not to mention, even now you have no actual idea what his power really is. He could be super dangerous and pulls those weird things on you again. Aren’t you concerned at all?”

“I don’t have time to be concerned about that when he’s probably going to do those things to you guys too!”

Neku’s mind leaps through a double back. The other three all share a questioning glance with each other, and Shiki’s eyes are sparkling (sparkling?!) with excitement.

Shiki fake-coughs. “Um-hum. I really appreciate that Neku cares about us like this—”

Neku could feel his cheeks flame to an odious crimson. “I mean, I would hate for my only allies in this weird matter to get hurt so senselessly—”

“We got it, we got it! You are super eager to protect us as the only one who is the most powerful in terms of your power so far.”

“Excuse me?”

“No offence, Beat,” Shiki re-affirms with a full grin. Then she turns back to Neku, and Neku notes that her smile has turned sharply more solemn. “Look, I do appreciate that you care, but you, and all three of us as well, really have literally no idea what this Joshua is capable of, so I do think of it a better idea if you don’t go and do anything rashly.”

“Even if you say so…”

“Neku. Honestly. You don’t know, maybe that guy will try to pick you off himself, and that would be terrible too, but at least then the three of us would be on your side too. It would at least be way better than just the one of you, against him, all on your own.” Shiki tilts her head at Neku, lips pressed into a bitter smile. “Remember, we are your friends. We would hate to see anything happen to you.”

The scenes of Shiki flinging her duffel bag onto Kariya’s face flashes by Neku again. That time, that almost magical time when Shiki comes to his rescue and fights down some shady agent man alongside him, even though ultimately the most she did was only providing distractions…

“I got it. Don’t worry about me. I won’t do anything without letting you guys know.”

A relieved smile pops up on both Shiki and Rhyme’s faces, while Beat maintains a rather baffled expression.

“Alright, then it’s all settled!” Shiki turns to Rhyme and Beat, and give both of them a heavy shake of their hands. “Good day to you both! I hope we can be even better friends in the future!”

_Even better friends? Everything is settled?_

Neku lets Shiki’s words settle into the pit of his stomach like the poison they are, the heavy strains of the darkness and Their kind words swarming him up back into somewhere he shouldn’t go again.

⸷

_“Why do you care so much about making friends anyway?”_

_They deftly stepped through the trees pushed down into ruins in the recent storm, stepping into the greenery of the woods with barely a second thought, and barely an answer to Neku’s question at all._

_“Do you plan to answer my question or what?”_

_“Shhh, Neku,” They put Their nimble fingers to Neku’s lips, gently, as if afraid to disturb something into stirring out of its sleep. “It’s not a good thing to demand answers out of others so casually.”_

_“I’m just, asking you a question, I’m not demanding you to—”_

_“Is that really so? Do you really don’t think you are?” They put a hand onto a tree nearby as an anchor, looking back at Neku with a half-frown that drilled irritation deep into Neku’s impatient heart. “Hey, remind me again? Who is it that really really, really dislikes the idea of others pouring their ideas into his head?”_

_Neku felt the heat creep into his face before he could feel indignation gnaw at his sides. “You… I only ask because…!”_

_“Because you care? Jeez, Neku, I’m moved!” They smiled, that innocent sweet smile that was always strewn across the features of Their face, and They started walking back out of the woods._

_“Where are you going? I thought you have things to show me back in there?”_

_“Not anymore.” For perhaps a splitting second, Their smile was tinged with sourness. “I already showed you what I need to.”_

⸶

Neku takes that squirting bottle he always has ready on the windowsill and takes a good look on the pot of wisteria. His fingers are hesitating on the handle.

He had dreams with the wisteria. Especially the original one, the one that he had so painstakingly promised himself and Them to care for properly, to provide the most care possible even in the absence of his own comfort. The one that was destined to grow somewhere better than Neku’s house.

And yet… The wisteria now, this soft stem and budding violet petals veined with white… It’s not the original one. But that was okay, wasn’t it?

Until today.

A steady rhythm starts building in the room, pounding louder and louder until the sharp pain on Neku’s knuckles wakes him to the realization that he was the one unconsciously making the racket. He looks back to the bottle. Then the pot again.

Before he allows himself another chance to breathe, another terrifying idea takes root in Neku’s mind. If Joshua knew back then that Neku was looking for wisteria and he even knows the details of Their face… what else does he know? How did he even learn that much about him?

Every thought converges into a terrifying vision Neku doesn’t want to deal with. He puts down the bottle and hurries away to find his phone.

⸶

“Oh, Neku, can I just commend you for your absolute friendliness?” Joshua’s perfect smile is as perfect as it comes, with how blindingly pure and befuddling it seems. “I haven’t met such a good-natured, charming friend who’s willing to put up with bullshit for some time.”

Neku takes a deep breath, willing his hands to ease out of the painful clenched forms they were in. “Well, judging on what kinds of shit you’d pull, I do wonder if any of those friends would stick by at all.”

“And yet here you are, Neku. Sharing this school-day-off under the bright ol’ sun with me. That must speak of some good blood between us, no?”

Every word with a relatively friendly presence in Neku’s vernacular deserts him at the speed of light. “No. You damn know very well why I ask you to meet me again. You have questions you should very damn well answer.”

“Starting from where I wonder?” Joshua’s voice goes a little softer at that, his right hand swinging back to his side with a thud, his eyes drifting back to Neku’s with a hint of mischief that can’t be wiped off. “Would you like to start at the basics? Or at the most advanced level?”

“Will you answer anything I ask at all?”

“Will you do anything if I don’t plan to answer any of them with a straight answer?”

Neku crosses his arms, lest he finds either of them hurtling to punch the grin off of Joshua. “How about this? I plan to do nasty terrible things to you even if you give me all your answers.”

Joshua starts laughing. Honest-to-god, belting laughter spilling out of him like a demonic hymn, every note only seeming to serve the singular purpose of flaring Neku’s nerves.

He finishes laughing about two minutes later, his body still doing a little shaking here and there, but slowly the laughter stops gushing out of his lips, and he takes Neku into an unspoken staring match again, tilting his head and moving in circles around Neku.

All the while, it is difficult for Neku to not think of those motions to resemble that of a predator encircling a would-be prey.

“If you are too much of a coward to answer, then fine.”

⸸

It’s not hard to predict what Sakuraba Neku tends to do— his strategy, if it exists, only seems to consist of blinding someone into a panic. This singular action just seems largely foolish and useless— what would he do if he faces up someone blind? Deafen them instead?

Plus, as Joshua’s tests have revealed, Neku’s power has entailed far more possibilities beyond simply shutting down someone’s normal biological functions. If you take that into account, then the fact that Neku only treats blinding someone as a viable and already-effective method of dealing with any unpleasant intruder in his life just whoops up a huge insult to his own EO power.

Nevertheless, as it comes down in the end, this continues to be what he sticks with so loyally, that Joshua could feel darkness descending around him rather than seeing it himself. He naturally shuts his eyes.

“Oh? What sort of fixation do you have that you only seem to enjoy shutting someone’s eyes off, I wonder?” Joshua chides, in a tone he hopes sounds light and playful just enough to equivocate Neku further into fury. “Personally, I think it has something to do with the fact that you judge people merely by appearances. After all, you always have those headphones on just to block out everyone’s voices— Oh, and did I mention that I feel highly honoured that you feel like listening to me? That’s heartwarming.”

What he gets in return is a low growl. “Shut up.”

“Ha, look at you! How friendly of you to ask me to do that out of my own volition when you can just shut down my voice on your own! Or, could it be, you just don’t like hearing your own voices alone here? Or do you hate the idea of not getting anything out of me?”

Joshua keeps his steps light and chaotic in the wake of the blindness, a naive strategy against someone who still has the full advantage of possessing sight. At the same time though, it doesn’t take a genius to know that everything Joshua is speaking into existence digs and grinds down Neku’s sanity into strands to dust to a modicum. If he is lucky, maybe Neku would keep up this banter enough to scrape off of his own, and that would either write a more surefire ending to this unfortunately fruitless conversation or—

“I hate that you feel just like how I was.”

Joshua’s sneakers hit the asphalt with a heavier thud, and stop.

“What did you say?”

“I said, I hate your little mastermind know-it-all attitude right now.” He couldn’t see Neku’s face, but for some reasons, he’d prefer to imagine his countenance now carries a tone of wistfulness, of lessened hatred. “I don’t like how you are dancing around all my questions and acting superior and hurting… I don’t know what purpose you have to hurt me, to hurt even Shiki back then, because I think I could speak for them that at least Shiki of all people don’t deserve that, but…”

Well, he has to stop that from growing.

“Oh, are you having any sympathy for me? I’m flattered, but I would really love for you to—”

“No! I’m absolutely not having any sympathy for you, it’s just…”

“It’s just fucking weird of you to get all sentimental and crying when earlier we were on hostile grounds, right?”

Joshua could almost hear Neku taking off his friendly mask. “Right, of course. Looks like you don’t like people getting all friendly with you instead? What sort of a weirdo are you?”

“This question would look normal coming from anyone else, but absolutely hypocritical coming out of you, Neku.”

“Whatever, I don’t care anymore.”

“Think about it though, you of all people who practise the art of blocking everyone else so so well? You of all people who are so, so depreciative of everyone around you, do you really have the right to turn around and accuse me of the same thing?”

Silence. Silence edged with a hint of red. Joshua stands up-straight, clamping his hands to his back in a perfectly vulnerable state, waiting for that blow that never comes.

He tenses, and in that absence he opens his eyes, once more facing off the immense darkness of nothingness.

Only for colours to pour in again.

Joshua blinks, testing his eyes out again. Focusing on the features of the park around him. No people, no pet and not even any feral animal around, just him in the dead silent middle of the park. Neku has left him, most certainly.

Joshua gives himself a punch on the forehead. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected this plan to be carried out so perfectly. Only one time he showcased his power shouldn’t have already given Neku enough reason to try to kill him. That boy might always have kind of a heartless streak about him, but befriending that girl Shiki and those Bito siblings might have softened him a little. Plus, the plan has been too rashly executed; he didn’t even make any confirmation as to whether Neku has turned off Joshua’s own wretched EO power, so thinking that he could miraculously hit a home run that early on is just childish.

Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t have any other chances to try it all over again. It’s surely difficult to fulfil those two conditions, but he still has time. Too much time. Time he can’t wait to start killing thinking about the next steps of his plan.

As for today, at least he has some more ideas about what he should do… Joshua tries to imagine that fury inscribed on Neku’s face and smiles to himself. For all his failures, at least the data he had collected today shall prove sufficient to pave his road to success later.

Joshua walks out of the park and makes his way back home, before remembering something he needs to drop in the cafe on Cat Street instead.

⸶

Neku arrives at school in deathly silence.

Today’s one of those few days where he allows himself the barest freedom of pretending everything in the world hasn’t been much of a shamble. He did end up watering the wisteria, at the very least.

Not that it makes him feel any better at all.

Neku thought of the stadium again, of the greenhouse and its many promises strewn across every plane of glass, every inch of dirt.

The school feels as empty as that budding shopping complex at this hour. There’s barely even a sanitation worker sweeping the ground clean of leaves or any half-asleep clerk stumbling their way out of a particularly hard shift.

Neku walks through the first floor onto the next, sleepy feet taking him to his classroom as he continues in his struggle against the metaphorical sandman to no avail.

Bang!

“What—” Neku nurses the sharp pain of his forehead, fully opening his eyes and mind.

In front of him is a door. Neku looks back behind him. The short, yellow plastic chain with the sign ‘Do Not Enter without Authorization’ has been cast to the side, resting on the floor.

When did he walk all the way up? Five levels high near the heavens instead of the first floor his classroom rests comfortably on? And whatever should he say if he runs back down now and finds any teacher patrolling around with an aimed frown at him?

Against some internal instinct that warns of dangers, Neku turns the doorknob without a second thought—

—and finds to his shock that the doorknob isn’t locked at all.

What are you doing?

Neku steps into the rooftop.

“Neku?”

“Ah!” Neku startles, nearly dropping his schoolbag onto the ground. He looks to the direction of the voice and finds nothing in that direction other than a small sect of garden allocated for the purposes of some ridiculous ‘Make Your Environment Greener!’ campaign.

The air near the garden ripples, and colours patchwork into the shape of a tall girl.

Neku shakes his head with a tilted smile. “I didn’t pan you down as the wake-up-early kind.”

“I don’t, either. To be fair though, I also didn’t know you are so enthusiastic about gardening that you’d come up here to look at the plants.”

“I didn’t actually.” Neku scratches the back of his head, feeling a tinge of chagrin starting to stew across his cheeks. “I kinda just. Went up here in a sleepy daze.”

“Uh-huh,” Shiki replies, turning her back to him as she bends down and gazes at the garden herself.

The abrupt silence sends a chill down Neku’s spine. “So… What about you?”

A thick mist of tension hangs heavy in every inch of the rooftop.

“You know, Neku,” Shiki stands back up. “Next time you try to confront somebody we know is dangerous, can you at least let us know first?”

The scent of the wisteria wafts up Neku’s nostrils until it drowns him. “So you know. And?”

“And? Don’t you think it’s kinda terrible that you just go out and, like, talk to that guy again when we all agree to not do anything about it so rashly first?”

“I—” A choked up syllable pops up from Neku’s throat, and Neku can’t find any follow-up to it. “So you were planning to yell at me this whole time up here, right?”

“Neku,” Shiki stands back up and marches towards him in uncertain steps. “I didn’t want to. That’s why I came up here… I just want to clear my mind and think about what to tell you, but then you came in and I kinda just, panicked—”

“Great, good to know it’s my fault too!” Neku kicks hard at the asphalt, threading his fingers into his pockets as the familiar cuneate verse drumfires through his veins. “Every damn thing so far is my fault and you are the innocent fragile kid who has to pull their weight around just to watch out for me because I just can’t stop making mistakes over and over again—”

“Don’t,” A small sob crawls its way out of Shiki, and she hangs her head lower, fingers entangled in fidgety chaos. “Please don’t go on.”

Neku’s voice dies. He has switched down no volume on his own voice, or Shiki’s voice, and yet that’s what happened, freezing silence once again on the rooftop.

“If you really, don’t like me going on,” Shiki is straight-up crying now, rubbing her forearms against her entire face and heaving, heaving. “Then alright. I won’t. I’m sorry I didn’t just keep it my concern deep down. Sorry I didn’t just, keep it to myse—”

“Fine. Yes, I did overreact.” Neku spreads out his arms, the thought of putting them on Shiki’s shoulders to comfort her a small spark on his nerves until it dies and he retracts them. “I don’t want to argue with you on this, because you don’t deserve this, and I—”

“Because I don’t deserve this?” There’s a faint tone of defiance in Shiki’s eyes. “Not because you do care about how I feel?”

The tension in Neku’s tongue releases through an invisible valve, the fight still inside him draining, draining, the zeal cooled down back down to the ice in equilibrium with the freezing temperature outside.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to stay up here a little.”

Shiki looks as if there are still words to exchange and let out but, watching Neku slowly move all the way to next to the garden, her dainty footsteps fade into the distance, with the sound of the door slamming back down heavy in Neku’s heart.

Neku walks all the way up to the garden and stares down at the plants there.

It’s been radically different since he last came here. Last time he checked, this small plot of dirt had nothing but wilting tomato stalks in it. They were raving about how the kids of this school were doing so good, eyes sparkling with pride.

Pride that went dimmer and dimmer by each visit, as They edged ever closer to the precipice of the rooftop, that small spot where the fences didn’t perfectly wall in.

Neku grabs onto a thin wire on the fence, studying how it is a portion that has been shoddily added in.

He grabs it harder, feeling the rust on it digging into his palm.

The day isn’t getting any younger and the sounds of the bell ringing pounds into his constricted chest again and again, so Neku takes up his schoolbag and hurries back down.


	6. shiwasu - put on your war paint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for:
> 
>   * feelings of unreality (in two scenes, in which shiki (scene starts with "In the evening, right before...) and neku (scene starts with "Neku only finds the walls...") experience hallucinations respectively. can skip them without missing anything)
> 


Neku digs into his pathetic sandwiches all alone. How many days have it been? A whole week?

Or he would had again, had Rhyme not decided to sit opposite to him instead.

“How are you holding up?”

Neku puts down his half-finished sandwich. “I think you should direct this question to someone better.”

Rhyme blinks profusely, a small pout on their face while they seemingly try to work through the semantics of the statement. “There’s no such thing as ‘someone better’ in this situation. You both messed up on your parts in some ways; neither of you are superior or inferior to the other for that.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to know I’m the one in the wrong for the most parts though.”

“Maybe it is so. Or maybe it isn’t. Why get so hung on one mistake? Human lives have always been defined by a string of mistakes and amends and more mistakes and more amends.”

“Well then, how about we talk about the fact that I haven’t made any ame—”

Rhyme charges a fork straight towards Neku’s eyes, stopping just inches away from them. Neku yelps and nearly topples himself to the ground.

“The point is,” Rhyme starts again, slowly. “If you care about her feelings and want to make amends out of your own volition, you’d stop beating yourself up as if you were trying to earn my sympathy. It’s not working, by the way.”

Neku gives his temples small rubs, as if Rhyme has psychologically poked their fork into them anyway. “I… I know. It’s just… how can I even do that? There’s no excuse for what I have done.”

“Making amends isn’t about discussing your excuses. It’s about making up for what you have done wrong. So, get to thinking about what you have done wrong specifically then.”

Rhyme finally leaves Neku at that. Neku leaves out his wretched sandwich and lets that small ball of bile inside of him vacillate between the base of his throat and the arteries wrapped around his heart, never once settling into a good enough spot, never settling to where he wants it to be, to disappear.

⸶

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that?”

Beat erases the bulk of everything written on his notebook, frowning at every single stroke he has erased. He wishes his ears aren’t clogged every time he couldn’t bother to figure out a joke. “Shouldn’t do what?”

“Shouldn’t have interfered. Between Shiki and Neku, I mean.” Rhyme takes the spyglass away from their eyes, looking back at Beat sitting next to them. “Something tells me their relationship is still in kind of a rocky beginning.”

“Well, all friendships have to start off somewhere. Do you think Mom will like this joke?” Beat hands off his notebook to Rhyme, who shoots a reluctant glance back at him. “What? Too above reading through my stand-up now?”

“If you do intend for us to have a ceasefire right now, won’t you agree that you should at least listen more to me right now?”

Beat’s smile trips to a forced tone. “Ahh, Rhyme my very good lil’ sib, come on. You know what Mom will say if she sees me skateboarding around without handing in my ‘evidence of hard work’.” 

“Fine.” Rhyme sighs dramatically and starts reading. Then frowns. “Probably no, Beat, last I checked Mom doesn’t like anything that involves puns.”

“Why? Why doesn’t our Mom like puns? Who doesn’t like puns?”

“I don’t know anyone else like that other than her. But hey, I do think you have a good beginning there.”

Beat takes back the notebook with a huff, and reads down the long list of jokes he has written all morning. Twelve of them, and only four they are both sure everyone in the Bito family would appreciate. Trying to continue this comedian act really is going to be way tougher than both of them could imagine.

“Rhyme, do you mind me telling you something?”

“What is it?”

“... Have you thought of just splitting away from those two?”

Rhyme takes off the strap of the spyglass around their neck, then, gripping it by one side of the handle, slams the other right onto Beat’s forehead.

“Ouch!”

“We will absolutely not be doing things like that.” Rhyme puts their spyglass back to their eyes, heaving an undoubtedly disappointed sigh. “If we did something like that, it would be just as terrible as… I don’t think I have to mention them.”

Beat rubs his forehead a little, but makes no words of protest. “I know that, Rhyme, but you must have taken some thoughts about what I said. I mean, as far as we are concerned the people who are pursuing those two don’t know about us at all.”

“That Joshua sure does know about me, though.”

“That Joshua also isn’t aiming for you or anything. He seems unpredictable, but it does also seem like he only takes interest in that Sakuraba.”

“Yeah, and it totally makes sense for us to only look after our own skin. It’s totally not terrible or inhumane to let that two be off on their own, knowing some damned adults and an unstable kid are haunting them.”

The urge to bite down hard on his own tongue flits through Beat’s head. “Alright. Wait, no, you know what? That’s not alright, Rhyme. Why are we kids allowed to be hurt in this damned society? Isn’t the point of community about protecting everyone? Why do we have to handle all these weird shit all by ourselves?”

“That’s a good line for your jokes. Work it in and I’m sure your audience would love that punchline to death.”

Beat shoves the notebook back into his pockets, and takes his place next to Rhyme on the bench. “I can never win an argument against you, can I?”

Rhyme shakes their head. “It’s not a matter of whether or not you can win an argument against me, Beat. It’s about the fact that you don’t quite stand at where ‘right’ is when you do start an argument with me.”

“That’s a roundabout way of saying I’m wrong all the time.”

“You know I didn’t mean that,” Rhyme chuckles, putting a comforting hand on Beat’s shoulder. “I know sometimes it just can’t be helped. That feeling of wanting to do the right thing without turning everyone you know into danger.”

Beat puts his hands to the back of his head and relaxes into his seat, gazing deep into the cloudy, blurry sky.

“Hey, Rhyme?”

“Hmm?”

“Did I ever ask you why you always seem so fixated on looking at the clouds when it’s all, like, gloomy and about to rain?”

“Why are you asking me about whether you have ever asked me this question, when obviously you intended to ask me that question?”

“I dunno. I guess it makes me sound like an arse for not knowing the reason.”

Rhyme stretches and jumps off the bench, extending a courteous hand to Beat. “C’mon. It’s late. I can hear thunder roaring somewhere off five minutes ago, across the shore.”

“I didn’t know your past vision includes other sensory experience?”

“I told you ‘past vision’ wasn’t really an apt description of my power before too… Anyway, let’s just head home.”

⸶

In the evening, right before Shiki’s last class period is due to end, her pencil breaks.

Maybe it was the teacher’s voice droning on meaninglessly, maybe it was something she forgot to do at home before leaving for school. But somewhere in her guts, as Shiki inspects the pencil’s broken section, the chipped graphite and split wrapper, something poisonous spreads.

“Misaki-san, was something wrong?”

“Oh, my pencil just—”

Shiki raises her head up to see an empty face stare into her.

Her voice dies down like tamped embers in her throat, Shiki holds in her breath as she processes the blankness of the face in front of her. Her grip on the pencil tightens.

The blank face in front of her tilts. “Seriously, is there something wrong? You look really sick just now.”

“I’m,” Her knuckles whiten to the point of ashened. “I’m fine, of course. I just, broke my pencil is all.”

The blank face reaches out a malformed hand, leaking viscous claret along the ridges of its fractures, a pencil held inside the knobby and twisted fingers. “Here, you can take mine.”

“Thanks.” Shiki reaches for the pencil, and takes it in a grip hopefully fast enough not to earn her any of the sanguine sliding down the non-skin of the blank hand. The pencil she gets looks almost identical to her broken one.

“No problem.” A fissure fractures open along the length of the blank face, as the voice slithers out more like a curse personalized for Shiki.

Shiki swallows her own brand of curses and looks back down on her unfinished homework.

⸶

“I’m not kidding you. This is serious.”

“I’m not saying you are kidding me. I’m just saying—”

“That everything I just told you sounds delusional? Like something you’ll hear from a horror movie?” Shiki crosses her arms, barely any attempt in her gestures in hiding her anger.

Rhyme, on the other hand, stares down onto the ground as if they could scry for details from it. “Look, first of all, I trust you on the fact that it’s not some freak hallucination, alright? From the way you describe it, it sounds too detailed to be one. At the same time, it doesn’t sound like something that an EO would do intentionally. More like… some sorts of effects that were cast on you.”

“Some sorts of effects? Some EO with the power of illusion or something?” Shiki sits down hard on the park bench, stomping onto the ground twice as she sinks into her own musings. “What’s gonna happen at this rate? More and more of our schoolmates turn out to be EOs?”

“I find it weird that any EO would just display their power so publicly for no reasons, however.” Rhyme grabs up a tree stick from the ground and starts drawing lines along the sands.

“Take this as an example. Say I’m someone with the power of illusion control. Since any EO who has spent more than one minute thinking of their current state knows that they will be in danger if they reveal their power, they will all keep their power to themselves.”

“Alright, Rhyme,” Shiki grabs on the tree stick away, and Rhyme is without any reaction, still staring down at the semi-human they have just drawn. “I know what you want to say. You want to say that I am full of bullshit.”

“I’m not saying you are full of bullshit. I just want us to think about this in a rational way before panicking senselessly.” Rhyme slips the stick back into their grip, and continues lining into the sands a group of faceless men. “Think about it. With the exception of that Joshua individual, I don’t think it’s likely anyone will have displaying their power as a priority.

“Rather than an individual with this hypothetical illusion power, I think it might be one of those people who were chasing up EOs, like the ones you and Neku have encountered before. We know nothing about them, but I don’t think it’s too of a reach to think they might have developed psychological weapons of their own to hunt us.”

An idea pops up as the words trace out of Rhyme’s lips. “Speaking of… Aren’t you going to tell Neku about this?”

Shiki’s glares soften then, the shadow of her old self layered over. “I… I’m not seeing you tell your brother about that either.”

“Beat is a professional worrier that must never hear of something this big before we confirm anything. You and Neku, who knew each other first, and who I’m rather sure must have at least forged your friendship based on mutual protection, on the other hand… ” Rhyme ambles around the sandpit of the park, kicking at the sand once, twice. “Or, did something else happen—”

“It’s nothing.” Shiki snaps. “Nothing happened. You know, other than that quarrel. It’s not that I’m still mad though, I just… don’t know how to reconcile with him just yet.”

“If one of you did something wrong, then that person should apologize. If both of you did something wrong, then the same rule applies to both of you.” Rhyme strolls up to the snapdragons lining along the park. Bends down to inspect them. “Apologize, own up to your faults, be better.”

“It’s all easier said than done, Rhyme. Our conflict… Isn’t something that can be just resolved by apologizing.”

“I never dare to imagine that simple apologies will resolve any bit of fire between you. I did mention owning up to what you did as well.”

Shiki crouches down into the sandpit and pouts at the buckets. “Did Neku tell you what I did?”

Rhyme crouches down alongside Shiki and picks up one of the toy shovels, staring at it almost amusedly. “No, he said nothing. He did appear very guilty over what he did.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. I did try to approach him on the basis that maybe both of you have done something to hurt the other, but when I talked to him about it all he said was that he’s the one in the wrong. So I don’t think my guesses that Neku does feel terrible for hurting you are wrong.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that we still aren’t talking yet.”

“Hey, him knowing that he’s in the wrong is still a good beginning if you ask me.” Rhyme hops out of the sandpit. “What we need to do now is to get you two in an environment where you’d talk. Then things should be fine, or at least better than before.”

“Annnnd we still won’t tell Beat about it, right?”

“Yeah. I will act as cooperative as possible so he won’t smell anything wrong.”

Shiki approaches the exit of the park, nearing the precipice of leaving this temporary peace behind her. “Hey, Rhyme?”

“Hmm?”

“I guess it might be weird to say, but… Thank you for sticking around. You could’ve just avoided us like the plague.”

“That’s a strange simile and a strange declaration.” Rhyme chuckles, taking the first step out of the park without further prompting. “And I wouldn’t do that in any way. It’s important that we all stick together so nobody gets hurt.”

“Not just about protection, but… this whole sticking with us despite our childish arguments thing.”

“Don’t say silly stuff like that now, Shiki. We all make mistakes here and there. As long as you two own up the most you can, that’s good.”

Shiki feels the heat in her cheeks emanating to the outside, gradually and increasingly so. “Maybe that’s just what you believed…”

⸶

Neku only finds the walls shifting at first.

There are many discoveries he has made in that few minutes. They are barely on the edges of his periphery but he knows, he knows they are there. Just tilted out of his sight, but not enough that he could not notice how wrong it is.

As he has just confirmed for himself, the left-side wall of his bedroom is _transforming_.

Amidst the blankness of its greyish-white, the wall starts caving in itself. A dark blue crevice takes shape, leaking tendrils of penumbra into Neku’s bedroom.

Neku looks down on his bed and drawers. They don’t seem to be affected by the appearance of the wall so far, so at least the crevice isn’t some kind of gravitational black hole.

And yet, the moment Neku lands his eyes on his possessions, they bleed into each other. Hues in sempiternal precipitations against each other, the hard outlines of reality tipping into mere sketches of nothingness.

“What did I…” He looks out of the windows and, upon realizing it’s shut tight, pries it open with the urgency of a beast longing to escape a gladiatorial ring. The night air rushes into his lungs, sweet and almost real.

He looks back at the wall.

The abyss has not grown any further, though it has apparently been rolling and capsizing on some invisible gravitational axis, judging on how the outline almost seems to be rotating.

How many more ExtraOrdinary does he need to know about in this neighbourhood?

“Whoever you are, this shit isn’t funny at all, okay?” As soon as the words left Neku’s lips, he could feel how foolish they are, how aimless they will drift into the night wind. But there’s no power in his mind to keep them behind his lips. “I don’t know what motivations you have in displaying your power just like that, and I certainly don’t want to know them specifically, but…”

The words left him, however, when the black hole starts shrinking.

It’s an unanimous occurrence with the hues from his back, all refocusing sharper and sharper until they regain their shapes, until they look like what they appeared to be originally.

He isn’t tripping on anything, is he?

Neku looks out of the windows again, hoping to catch the sight of someone outside, but the night outside remains peaceful and undisturbed.

“It wasn’t anyone… was it?” Neku closes the window back down. Staring into the filtered moonlight. “Was it something I ate? A kind of…”

The investigation agency? Working out some new way to capture them?

He has to tell Shiki and Beat and Rhyme about it. But before his feet can carry him outside of even just his bedroom, the reality of the night and another thought strike him.

That day in the rooftop garden. Shiki leaving him as she should.

Even as he thought that to himself, however, his thunderous thoughts quiet down to a more temperate volume as his thoughts dip deeper. All their childish arguments— _his childish temper,_ he corrected himself— shouldn’t take any priority over their safety, their mutual protection pact formed on day one.

“Tomorrow… Tomorrow I will…”

⸶

“Hey, are you free right now?”

Shiki bristles. She looks up from her notebook, almost letting out an unabashed retort, ready on the tip of her tongue unlike any other time. Now is, after all, few of those rest periods when few people will be around to bother her. “What is it, Neku?”

“I… I don’t know if this is a weird thing to say, actually,” Neku catches his attention slipping all the way right back out of the classroom, millions of miles away from Shiki despite of her being right in front of him, and he feels an ounce of shame burning down in his guts. “Look, this might sound weird, but I think I’ve experienced some kind of, like, illusion last night when I was in my bedroom.”

Shiki’s countenance stiffens in a second. “Illusion?”

“Yeah, and I don’t, well it could be just some sort of hallucination I have, but I can’t for the life of me get why I would hallucinate all of a sudden, you know? I feel like it might be outside influences. Maybe even those two from the agency. And, and that illusion went something like… a black hole appearing on a wall while the things beside me appear more and more indistinct.”

Shiki crosses her arms and looks down, brows burrowing until she looks up back at Neku with a newfound fire in her eyes. “I have quite a similar thing happening to me yesterday, actually.”

“The same black hole hallucination?”

“Not exactly a black hole, but close enough,” Shiki stands up from her seat and paces around the classroom. “It was a classmate of mine, sitting in front of me. Suddenly for no reasons at all their face seems to have been sucked up into nothing, or like the black hole you’ve described.”

Shiki reclines back onto the seat, gazing up at the ceiling with vacant eyes and fidgeting with her fingers. “You know, after that I did try to think about if I’m just freaking out about nothing with Rhyme, but they also seem to think it might be some sort of new strategy from the agency. But, I do wonder… what the hell could it be?”

“The truths of what they want to do aside, this is placing us at a disadvantage again.” Neku starts pacing back and forth, Shiki notes, a frequent habit of his to show he’s thinking despite the fear in his head. “Are they going to randomly attack us with more illusions? Do they intend to do something specific to us with them, or are they just raising us unnecessary fear to complicate our mutual protection?”

“Using it somewhere from within the school area is one thing though.” Shiki squints at Neku, tilting her head in an almost amused manner. Almost. “What does it mean that they’d do it even in the middle of the night? I mean, like you’ve said, there’s no way they are just parading around in the night, looking up kids that might be EOs then identify them each by each, right? Did anyone even see you act weird last night when it happened?”

Neku’s shoulders slump. “No. I’m pretty sure no one saw me freaking out last night.”

“That’s super strange. Just what does that mean?”

A beat of silence as they both dive into their oceans to look for answers. Then a declaration shaped in danger as Neku comes up with his. “Joshua.”

“That seems to be a bit far-fetched.”

“It’s not far-fetched. We don’t have any ideas about what exactly Joshua’s power is, and judging on my experience it does at least resemble illusions. It’s not that much of a reach to assume he has somehow resorted to playing tricks on us like that.”

“But why? Would that guy be petty enough to do things like that? Plus, why would he involve me?”

The question hangs in the air. Though its delivery lasts only for a second, the implications draw out a horrified, realizing gasp from Shiki. “Wait, Neku—”

“That would be one easy solution at least, Shiki. All we have to do is that the three of you just stop interacting with me at all.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Don’t you remember when we said we’re gonna stick with each other no matter what?”

“We agreed to stick with each other for protecting each other, which I’m going to do.” Despite his determined tone, Neku finds himself pacing back and forth in front of the blackboard, eyes glued to the ground so he doesn’t have to see Shiki’s adamant rejection of it. “If I can only protect you guys by separating from you, I’m fine with it.”

“Look, your logic right now doesn’t make any sense,” Shiki stands up, her shoulders stiffened and her posture almost firm. “We are friends. We ought to protect one another together, not dividing among ourselves.”

“That Joshua only cares to annoy me. As long as I’m away from you all things will be better!”

“It won’t! And you don’t even know if it really is that Joshua! Plus, even so, you don’t even know what exactly that Joshua wants from you. It’s not safe for you to just—”

“It’s not safe for me, but at least it will be safe for the three of you!”

“It means nothing if we aren’t all safe toge—”

“Why do you even care whether I’m safe or not!”

Dying sunlight filters into the classroom, painting the scene of their exchange into a red self-portrait of chaos. Words from Neku’s innate lexicon struggle to climb up the length of his throat to get to Shiki, to hammer in the truth of what they have to do.

Shiki stares at him like he has undergone a transformation that turned his inner heart into a rotting mess. She ambles away from him, hugging herself tight with sobs on her lips, and she said. “I think it is best if we both calm down and think things through.”

“I’ve already thought all of this through, Shiki. You just don’t want to admit separation is the best solution.”

“It is not. People become weaker when they are alone. They become hopeless.”

“Maybe I’m just not like any of those people. Shiki, I reach this conclusion on my own self, because I know myself and I know the kind of person I am. I’m not good for any of you when I’m becoming confrontational like that.”

Shiki slams her fist against the table. “What you said doesn’t mean anything if you didn’t even take the rest of us into account. Remember that? The four of us band together because we—”

Neku opens the classroom’s door.

Shiki’s face pales. “Wait, Neku, the teachers might be li—”

“So let’s make it brief here, in case they are eavesdropping.” Neku turns back to face Shiki one more time, woefully aware at how far away he is from Shiki’s outreached hand already.

 _Well, he just has to get used to all this again_.

“I say we do keep away from each other for some time. This give me time to investigate _him_ , and gives you guys time to investigate _them_.” He takes a stride out of the classroom and into the corridor. A perilous move, but a necessary move. “It will be some time for us to cool down and really think things through too. It will be good for us. Think about whether you really want this friendship.”

Shiki takes a step forward too, a shaky step, even though her hopeful hand has already slumped back to her side. “Of course, of course I do.”

“Maybe you will reach a different conclusion when you do give it some thoughts.” Neku closes the door, and takes to the stairs.

⸸

Shiki takes another ten to twenty minutes before she resolves to open the door and leaves the school for home herself. It is nearly six, so it goes without question that the later she leaves the worrier her mom will be.

Shiki glances up at the sun dipping lower and lower behind the mountains, and the bile in her heart is still yet to depart. If anything, instead of some measures of calm and peace, looking at the sun only reminds her of how powerless she is.

Shiki takes Nyantan to her eyes again, looking at how it still looks perfect and not worn to the seams like Shiki was used to seeing it as.

“Nyantan, do you think I’m in the wrong? Did I really force a friendship onto Neku for no reasons?”

Nyantan, of course, speaks no words of advice or affirmation or contradictions. Its eyes of black beads merely stare back into Shiki’s own eyes, limbs limp along its sides with no movement.

Shiki holds Nyantan closer to her, breathing into the scent of lavender along its scruff.

“Maybe it really is all me. I shouldn’t have done all that in the first place.”

“Shouldn’t have… thought friends can be simple again after that.”

⸸

The next day, a brilliant Sunday, Neku rushes to Cafe WildKat.

It has only been seven thirty, surely not a time for any shop in Shibuya to open just yet, and still Neku finds himself on the doorsteps of WildKat.

Under the slight hint of snow drifting down from the sky, Neku waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Fifteen minutes later, Neku has to walk into a nearby convenience store and reconsider his strategy.

Has his decision been a tad too hasty? The cafe is, after all, just their very first meeting spot. There’s no guarantee that the cafe owner will have valuable information about Joshua, or even if he will return here frequently enough to catch him again.

Neku looks down on his phone. Somehow, the idea of just contacting him out again through messaging unnerves him, sends embarrassing chills down his spine.

“Hey, spikey-head over there!”

Neku rubbernecks the street outside of the store. What kind of weirdo call out to people like that?

Neku focuses back on the cafe. Sure enough, there’s a guy standing right outside of it, with a pair of sunglasses, wearing a loose suit and a smirk. And an amused stare that is almost certainly directed at Neku.

“Yeah, I’m talking about you ball of cat. You over there! In the convenience store!” The man yells.

“What the…” Neku looks down on his clothes. When that guy was saying ‘cat’, does he mean Neku’s CAT attire or… ?

Neku cautiously meanders out of the store, strutting across the increasingly compact street towards the cafe.

“What is it that you need, sir?”

The man frowns, shaded gazes going up and down along Neku’s profile. “I should be the one asking that, young man. What are you doing so early outside of my cafe?”

Neku crosses his arms defensively. “To look for you, of course.”

“Look for me? Am I someone that you should contact out of any particular reasons? Or do you have any business propositions?”

“No, I want to ask you about Joshua. You know? That kid with blond hair and a plain shirt?”

It was brief, but Neku catches a slight difference in the man’s composure. Whereas he seems relaxed and casual just a second ago, the man’s posture straightens. Though it has only been for a second, as almost immediately his shoulders drop and a close-lipped smile comes into play. “Oh? What is that you need to know about Joshua?”

Neku shoots the closed door a glance. “Won’t you agree it would be safer for us to talk inside of the cafe?”

“Sure, though I can’t tell what exactly it is that you need to talk about when you are being so mysterious, young man.” The man cocks another casual smirk at Neku, but his words are cautious. “You are not planning to do something diabolical, are you?”

Neku’s lips scrunch up. “If you know anything about that Joshua, I think it’s quite obvious who’s the diabolical one.”

“You are not exactly wrong. But you will have to forgive me for my suspicions.” The man adjusts his sunglasses, and Neku has an uncomfortable feeling of being studied. “Someone around his age suddenly just barges in and wants information on him. As Joshua’s friend, you can’t expect me not to suspect you for less than noble intentions.”

Neku sits down near the counter, and for a moment something akin to guilt swells up inside him. “I… I suppose the way I have just presented myself is indeed rude and ill-intentioned. I’m sorry for that.”

“Nah, it’s cool. When it comes to Josh of all people, I can get the ambivalence directed at him.” The man goes behind the counter and turns up a coffee pot. The scent of coffee starts wafting through the dusty atmosphere of the cafe. “So, what exactly is it about Josh that troubles you?”

Neku attempts to relax into his seat, relax into the almost cozy atmosphere of this cafe. “Like what you’ve mentioned yourself, this Joshua is quite prone to getting into trouble and ticking people off, right?”

“Indeed. Perhaps he has provoked you some time ago?”

How much does this guy know about Joshua? Enough to know Joshua is an EO? Enough to cover up for him in front of Neku?

Too many questions. Too few chances to get them right.

“Yeah, he kind of has. I guess we try to be friends, like, emphasis on ‘try to be’, of course. It didn’t go very well and he… I don’t know, he might be a tad bit obsessive.”

The man stops the coffee machine and starts pouring a cup. Neku takes the chance to read his nameplate properly: Hanekoma Sanae.

“A tad bit obsessive? Our little Josh here is far more than just a tinsy obsessive, I assure you.” Hanekoma said, sipping the coffee as if he’s just discussing coffee bean prices with Neku and not discussing someone’s disposition and mental health.

“What makes you say that?”

“Josh, for as long as I have known him, has always been terribly, terribly lonely. It’s quite unusual to see him ever try to establish attachment with other folks. Rarer still to ever see him succeed.”

Neku snorts. “I can see that.”

Despite the deep shade of the sunglasses, Neku swears he could almost spot something solemn in Hanekoma’s expression. “Now, I’m sure Josh must have done something wrong to warrant your grief like that. But I will have to personally ask you this; is it something unforgivable?”

A quiver on Neku’s lips as _yes_ and _no_ battle each other for dominance. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“Because it is important, of course. Has Joshua done something unforgivable to you?”

“How would you define ‘unforgivable’ here, Mr. Hanekoma?”

“Ah, I gotta say I didn’t pin you down as someone with manners. But since you asked so nicely, well…” Hanekoma puts down the cup and gazes outwards to the crowded street. “I’d say that ‘unforgivable’ would imply a kind of irreversible hurt. Something he has done to you that you can never, ever, found any resolution for. That kind of unforgivable, kid.”

Neku stares into the dark of the coffee, a void full of ripples being raised in his heart at the same time. “Why do you need to know how I feel about that? So you can defend him? So you can distract me and turn my attention to somewhere else?”

“Maybe I am, kid, but maybe I’m not.”

“Look, did you plan to tell me anything about Joshua at all, or are you just someone wanting to have some fun messing with a kid?”

“Cool down now, kid, cool down now. Though I have to say, your little temper just now certainly reminds me of him as well.”

“Are you only here to waste my—”

“Hey, who’s this new kid you got here?”

Neku turns back, coming face to face with an even stranger-looking person at the door.

The man presumably greeting Hanekoma walks in with a strong slam of the glass door, stretching himself with an obnoxious yowl on his lips. He wears a black cap with a red kerchief-like cloth tied to its back. Rather than wearing a pair of black gloves properly, there’s only one on one hand. In addition to this peculiar get-up, the man wears a rather long black coat with ridiculously huge buttons. His face seems almost scruffy, almost as if the face is sculpted according to the shape of a feline face.

If his appearance is already weird, then his behaviour is only stranger. Rather than taking a seat next to Neku or somewhere else, the man leaps onto the counter, tilting one mug shattering down the floor.

Hanekoma doesn’t seem to mind, however. “Good thing you didn’t blast one of those mugs Josh sent me. I would have some problems with that.”

“You have problems with a lot of things ‘round here, old man.” Black Cap gets back down from the counter by sitting down on it, swinging his legs right next to Hanekoma. “So, who’s this boy? Should I know anything about him?”

Hanekoma calmly sips his coffee again. “That would depend on the range of your interests.”

“Hmm, then I will have to say my range of interests doesn’t include him right now. Shoo, kid.” The man winks. Neku wants to punch the starburst out of his face.

“Look, Sho, that kid’s just a guest of mine. Let him live.”

“Can’t let him even breathe if he’s gonna listen in anything we say, though.”

A jolt. Neku turns back to Hanekoma, fighting desperately not for his lips to twist into something giving him away, something showing any sign of weakness.

Hanekoma puts a wrinkled hand onto Neku’s.

“Give it some time, kid. Go out there and stroll for around fifteen minutes. I will see you again then.”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“Yes. At least that. Twenty if you don’t feel urgent and want to feel safer. Go now.”

Is this all a mere trick? Are they buddies having a chat and a chuckle about that dumb kid?

Neku reluctantly leaves the cafe, breathing in the busy crowded life of Shibuya.

⸸

“I suppose I get it. And it might be a good thing if you guys do separate a little.”

Shiki frowns and pouts, though Rhyme has little visible response to them, opting to focus back on her crane game.

“Look, Rhyme, I guess on a realistic stand-point it’s definitely good for us to cool down a little like that, but you have to remember, we are—”

“Of course I understand the unique situation we are in, Shiki. That doesn’t mean we can neglect the necessity to sort out our own human emotions problems beforehand.”

“But it’s still not good to do that! There are fewer of us, and who knows if Neku is strong enough to be on his own.”

“He might not be strong enough to deal with all this on his own, but that would be something he has to realize on his own after he sees it for himself. But if he is, then there’s no doubt this separation thing is right.”

Shiki raises her head up to the ceiling, sighing. She puts her hands to the back of her barely-combed hair, trying to spot the top shelf of the crane game among the rows and rows of plushies.

“Rhyme, how was it like for you to become an EO?”

“What? That rhythm game next to us is too loud right now. Do you mind if we talk outside of the arcade?”

 _I’m not seeing you being deaf just now though_. Shiki dejectedly kicks up an imaginary pebble and sighs. Maybe it is her own fault too, to assume they are friendly enough to prod into such intimate businesses. “Alright. I’ll wait for you outside then.”

⸸

It should have been fifteen minutes at the least. Neku looks over at his phone for confirmation, before coming to the discomfiting realization that he has never checked for when did he leave the cafe. Stupid.

Nevertheless, Neku finds himself running back for the cafe. Running, like his heart can’t get enough of the enigma Hanekoma injected. Running, like his lungs long for the harsh way the air crawls through them.

He stands in front of the door. Stares hard at the ‘Preparing’ sign on the door.

Pushes it open.

⸸

A splitting headache. A dash of red.

Shiki bends down. The balance in her head tilts and tilts, then rebounds back to the other side, and starts tilting again. She tries to catch herself before she falls, even though the fall never comes. The vicious cycle continues.

She looks back up at the arcade walls. A sickly green glow covers them, smoke and mist emanating from them. Prize dolls hung up there take up sinister features, baring fangs and claws. The arcade machines have glass shards chipped into them, brandished like swords in her face.

She can hear someone talking to her. “Miss, you okay there?”

“I’m fine, I’m—” Shiki struggles to form words, but agony and nausea fuse to form an unbreakable blockade down at the base of her throat.

A gentle hand lands on her shoulder. “C’mon, we oughta get her to the infirmary in the mall. Does anyone know the direction…”

Shiki rubs her eyes. Once, twice, thrice, four times. Nothing changes. The arcade is empty. Her head has tilted downwards again. The uncomfortable heat of two others holding her and bringing her further and further away from the arcade burns into her heart. The arcade is—

“Huh?”

⸶

“Hey, you still there?”

Hanekoma is, once again, wiping a coffee mug clean when Neku walks in, and this time he spares no greetings back. “Would you waste time asking questions like this when the answers are already obvious, young man?”

“I don’t know for sure if you still mean to talk to me about, you know—”

Hanekoma puts down the mug. Stares right ahead.

Neku frowns. “Um… What is it now?”

Hanekoma’s lips move inches, as if something has been traded in whispers between him and an invisible conversational partner.

“... Please, just what—”

“You have a friend by the name of Bito Raimu, don’t you?”

Every word passing through Neku’s eardrums now taste like ashes, taste like embers about to be reignited. “Yes. So what?”

“They’ve been kidnapped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading the fic this far!!!! i hope u enjoy it greatly, and if u have, sparing me a kudos/comment/bookmark would do wonders for my writing and updating this fic in general. thank uu!!!


	7. shiwasu - the strategy of conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continuing the "rhyme's kidnapped" arc! this arc isn't actually that long, in that next chapter will conclude this arc already. w/ that said, onto the section of content warnings:
> 
>   * implied suicide/self-harm elements in most of joshua's actions (the deal with the pills, high heights, and the likes. please skip them if it gets too much)
>   * this entire kidnapping affair too. if any aspect of it triggers you or makes you generally uncomfortable, consider just reading up what happens in the next chapter instead as the elements get more toned down next chapter
> 


Neku puts down his headphones.

“What did you just say?”

“Boy, you are not telling me you weren’t paying attention to what I said earlier, are you? Your friend Raimu has been kidnapped.”

Neku stares down hard at the coffee mug, then the ceiling, then the ground. Breathes hard.

“How do you know? Weren’t you talking with that weird guy the past fifteen minutes?”

Hanekoma heaves a dramatically long sigh, then leans down across the counter and gestures for Neku to come closer. 

Neku obliges, leaning down to hear what Hanekoma has to say.

“I’m an EO too.”

Neku stops his feet from springing right out of the cafe’s doorstep. “You…”

“And before you want to ask further, yes, I know Josh is one too. We can have this whole story about how the hell we even met some time later. First, let’s get back to the business of your friend.”

“I don’t even know how the hell you know they are kidnapped, so why should I listen to you?”

“I can explain to you my EO power later, but now we have to solve the matter of saving your friend.”

“Just why—”

Neku’s phone rings in that inconvenient moment. Neku frustratedly grabs his phone out and glares at the caller number. 

“What is it, Shiki? Didn’t we agree that we—”

“Rhyme’s been kidnapped. We have to go save them somehow.”

Neku’s synapses twist along the lengths of each other. “What do you mean they’re—”

“We were at the arcade, and in the middle, I went out to get a drink and when I came back I have another of those hallucination attacks. Do you remember that? Literally what we were just discussing yesterday? It was that again. Some people took me to the infirmary, which is probably the only reason why I’m safe…”

Neku clenches his left fist tight, as if somehow it could alleviate the torrid hot spell in his chest. “So? Rhyme…”

“I barely went back to the arcade, and it’s nearly empty then. And then a kid gave me this note…”

“What note?”

“Your friend, Raimu, they are held in Udagawa Back Streets by the EOA right now.” Hanekoma takes a jacket and points to Neku’s phone, just before Shiki can relay the content of the note. “Is your phone call done?”

Shiki continues. “The note says, ‘If you want her back, come to Udagawa Back Streets! EOA xxoo.’”

None of this makes sense. None of this makes any damn sense. Just moments before Neku is approaching closer and closer to restoring peace to his world and now. And now.

Neku shuts off the call. “How do you think you can help at all? How can any of us help at all?”

Hanekoma gives Neku a wistful look, then puts a probably reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Kid. I know what it’s like to be an EO. Furthermore, I know this group EOA we are going to deal with. You don’t want to get any kind of police involved in this.”

Neku glances through the street outside, scouring for a sign that what they are going to do is not deranged, not something that will end in tragedy and manic tears. 

“Fine, let’s go.”

⸶

Today’s walk down the crowded street trips a wire inside of Neku. He looks around the crowd, searching through the faceless people, searching for a sign in any of them that they are secretly on Neku and his friends’ side, that they would offer them the help they so desperately need. 

He looks back to Hanekoma, who almost has a concerned expression on his face.

“What do you know about this EOA?”

Instead of supplying an answer, Hanekoma simply continues to type rapidly away on his phone. 

“Are you listening to—”

“Yes, though I concede it’s kinda difficult to do so when I have to message Josh while doing so. Have you told your friend Shiki where to wait for us?”

“I’ve told her to wait for us in the Miyashita Park Underpass— Why the hell are you talking with him now?”

“Pragmatic reasons. We need as many helping hands as possible. No idea how many EOA folks are holding your friend hostage after all.”

“How the hell can his illusion power or dream power or whatever help at all? Put all those jerks into a dream that they will eventually wake up from or something?”

Hanekoma flashes Neku a cheeky grin. “You’ll see soon.”

⸶

“Daisukenojo, are you paying attention at all?”

Beat braces himself for a hit on the shoulder that never comes, and he slouches. “Sir, I am.”

“If you are, then I will have to ask whether you remember what I’ve just told you to remember when delivering your routine?”

Beat scratches his left cheek while staring down at his notebook, scrutinizing between the lines for an answer that just won’t pop up. “Um, we have to… maintain eye contact?”

Beat’s classmates all burst into a unanimous bout of laughter. Mr Himura gives out what sounds like the wailing of a slaughtered cow and stands up, walks towards Beat’s seat and inhales. “I will reason with you here, young man. If you truly don’t have any intentions to master stand-up comedy, why don’t you just pack up your stuff and leave?”

“Oh, Sir, that’s quite a quality joke you just said there.”

Mr Himura only has a second to turn around to see everyone else howling into laughter again before his face turns scarlet. “Daisukenojo. You. Are. Dismissed.”

“But I—”

“The remaining class time will be refunded to you next time. Now leave!”

Well, that’s just how disastrous this class is destined to be. 

⸶

Beat types in an apology he’s ready to enter and be done with before he remembers a crucial problem.

Said recipient has blocked him.

Beat gives the bench he’s on a solid punch. Just what the hell was he thinking? Of course, there’s no easy access to Rhyme’s forgiveness just yet. A temporary ceasefire means nothing when they won’t even entrust him with the information of their location or routine. 

Beat reads his apology over again and sighs. What is he to do now if Rhyme finds out about his performance in the stand-up comedy class? All the snoring naps? All the doodles and name ideas for his skateboard? 

The probability of their reconciliation has just dropped below zero per cent.

The only possible upside of his current situation is that he can afford to go skateboard a little in Miyashita Park. Due to all this spare time he got via being dismissed so early, the calling to his skateboard drums louder and louder in his head, and Beat finds himself rushing down the streets to heed to it.

⸶

Shiki finds herself pulling on her fingers again.

It’s not a die-hard habit exactly, more like just an anxious gesture she always unconsciously commits herself to whenever she nears the verge of a breakdown or if she finds herself on the precipice of thinking about Her again. Plus, she doesn’t apply too much strength in it ever, so she’s quite fine even now. 

Except nothing is fine. Rhyme is lost because of her.

Shiki’s footsteps become just a little heavier.

What was she truly thinking of anyway? That continuously annoying Rhyme with her very problems with Neku will somehow enhance the quality of their friendship? That somehow Rhyme alone has held the key to all the answers she needs? 

Pathetic. She has always been just as weak as that moment. Her tongue still too weak to say anything meaningful, her legs still too weak for bringing her to the place of her truth. Her head still too weak to understand reality.

“Shiki? What are you doing here?” 

Shiki’s heart skips several beats.

“Huh. Oh, I’m just, you know, wai— I mean, strolling around!” Her cheery tone covers over the dark waves pumping up from her heart, and Beat’s slightly confused expression becomes more confused. “Oh, are you wondering about where Rhyme has gone?”

Beat heaves a sigh. “Well, in any case, it won’t do me any actual good to know where they are anyway. I mean, if I do barge into wherever they are now, the only thing that could happen is that they will ignore me completely for a whole week without a single word with me. Heh.”

Shiki’s throat has dried up. “Ah, I’m, really sorry we couldn’t help.”

“Nah, you and Sakuraba have done the most you can. I can only speak to my failings as a big brother to earn that much distaste from my younger sib.” Beat gives Shiki’s shoulder a pat and strides off with his skateboard, blissfully unaware of Rhyme’s current predicament in—

Can’t think of it. Shiki types in a new message for Neku.

“I will meet you in Towa Records instead.”

⸶

“Why the sudden change of location?” Neku mutters to himself, a kilted glare at his phone that won’t reach the intended recipient. “What is Shiki even thinking?”

“Maybe your little pal meets someone she shouldn’t see there. It’s no big deal, we need to pass there anyway.” Hanekoma smiles at his phone screen instead, gazing up ahead. “On the other hand, it looks like ‘my pal’ has arrived already.”

Neku suppresses an internal groan and a shudder as the inevitable arrival of that Certain Someone fills his eyesight in seconds.

“Hi there.”

“Not nice meeting you.”

“C’ mon, Neku, you can handle that little harmless banter with me here and then, I’m sure.” Joshua snickers, and god, does Neku find a strong gravitational attraction of his knuckles and Joshua’s face. “What? Sanae is here, so I promise I will be on my best behaviour!”

“Who taught you to just call other adults by their names like that?”

“Sanae has known me far too long to care about things like that,” Joshua said, then slows in his steps as he rubbernecks Neku from top to bottom, top to bottom, several times. “You, on the other hand, seems to have no problem with me calling your first name already. I like that.”

“I don’t like that, you jerk.”

“‘You jerk’ is also an acceptable name for me as far as I am concerned.”

“Mr Hanekoma,” Neku points at Joshua, whose expression he can’t fathom nor wants to fathom. “Can you give me a reasonable explanation for why exactly do we need Joshua of all people on this rescue mission? Like, I appreciate your efforts, but—”

“Joshua’s EO power is currently the most useful weapon in our arsenal,” Hanekoma replies, without once turning over to discern both of the boys. “If anything goes wrong at all, it will be him alone who’s able to bail us back out.”

“Damn, I can’t wait to see how he’s gonna save me when I’m already in the process of being chopped up somewhere inside another agency or something. Maybe he can pack up enough of my remains.”

“Your sass has been taken into serious consideration. And look, here’s your little pal.”

Neku gazes ahead and sure enough, standing by the entrance of Towa Records is none other than Shiki, who’s clasping her hands together over and over again, her expression strained. 

“Ah, Shiki?” Neku extends a hand to Shiki’s shoulder, who proceeds to look up in a fidgety panic. “Are you… alright?”

Shiki clasps a hand to her lips, stern eyes wandering around. “Nothing. We should hurry.”

Then she spots Hanekoma. “Wait, who are you then?”

“Hanekoma Sanae, at your service.” Hanekoma mock-bows to Shiki, gesturing for the both of them towards the colourful department stores of Shibu-Q Heads. “Now, why don’t we go shopping a little?”

⸸

None of the thugs who caught them left much tangible evidence of their passing beyond an unusual wisp of smoke, so it’s not far-fetched to deduce that it was fellow EOs who had kidnapped them.

Rhyme munches over these facts over and over again, letting all the discomfiture run through their veins properly. Mulling over the fact that they couldn’t have foreseen it. Mulling over the fact that they were stupid enough to make Shiki get out of their sight and stayed behind in the arcade instead of just getting whatever bubble tea Shiki wants to try next. 

If they didn’t make Shiki wait outside, then they wouldn’t have been affected by that hallucination attack and ended up collapsing on the floor… 

“Hmm, for an EO, this lassie seems surprisingly resilient!”

Rhyme grits their teeth. Even though their kidnappers haven’t duct-taped them or anything, it still seems highly suspicious that they would just initiate any kind of conversation like that. 

Rhyme swallows shallowly. “I wouldn’t praise myself for resilience. Cooperation is more of the word, perhaps.”

“For a hostage, you are indeed rather cooperative at the moment.” A firm slap on their back that might have been a failed attempt at reassurance or an intentionally failed attempt at reassurance. “Don’t worry. We won’t let you suffer at all if we can help it.”

Would it be wiser to switch to being a scared kid? Would it be wiser to continue being ‘cooperative’? 

Before Rhyme’s heart could settle into a fitting notch, the goons continue. “Though, I would have to wonder, you surely don’t have any other EO friend beyond that girl, do you?”

What is it now? Looking up ways to get themselves some more EOs or something? Are they investigation agency goons, or are they goons for some rich fucks who might have a sick fixation with EOs? The more possibilities that run through Rhyme’s head, the heavier their heartbeats. 

“... As far as I know, only that friend.” Rhyme wants to say it. The words are bursting at the seams of their skin, and sooner or later those words will leave and— “I’m not certain to the purpose of your actions here, but this is all the truth I could give you.”

“Aha, I see.” If Rhyme lets themself imagine it a bit harder, they could almost make out the shapes of the goons’ crooked smiles. “How long have you been one? How good are you with your power?”

“If you don’t even know what my power is, why do you intend to kidnap me?”

“More allies the better, don’t you think? Us EOs have to band together.”

“You have yet to display any tangible evidence to me that you are EOs. Or any sign of friendliness one would afford to allies.”

“Oh, I don’t see the need to give out any just yet. After all, we could see no reason to believe you will join us willingly.” 

Rhyme swallows. This isn’t going in a safe direction anymore. Before they could hold themself off, their lips shut once more.

“Nothing else to add? That’s understandable. I guess this will all go according to the will of your friend.”

⸶

“We are here.”

Hanekoma’s almost bored proclamation punctuates every beat of Neku’s jackhammering heartbeats, on the verge of bursting through his ribcage and skin. “So, what do you say we do now?”

“Still got everything we just bought?”

Neku looks into the bags he’s been carrying, scrunching his nose at the scent wafting through it. “Yeah, still got the party cannons, BB guns and… whatever kind of drugs it is that you guys want.”

“I hope those goons have different weapons ready by their side,” Joshua muses, taking broader and more exciting strides towards the end of the street. The views of that shopping arcade— Neku thinks the word with venom— and a nearby private estate stand gleaming in the sunlight. “Can’t wait to see what kind of painful death await us this time!”

Neku moves his sight from the bag and back to Joshua, worry and disgust dancing at the edges of his tongue. “Hanekoma-san… I have to ask you again, is having Joshua on our side right now a good thing?”

“Honestly, Neku, you have to stop doubting me so much.” The mischievous light in Hanekoma’s spectacles tells Neku that he should trust him less. “For now, don’t worry too much. Let’s just go in and meet them. We will see for ourselves what kind of ill intentions they have exactly.”

“I thought you said you are familiar with these people.”

“I have a working knowledge of them, doesn’t mean I’m somehow their affectionate cousin from several countries apart.” Hanekoma snaps his fingers once at Joshua. “Now, just give all the drugs to Joshua while you guys take the rest.”

“While we— what?” Shiki stomps right up to Hanekoma, her face a storm of tumult and barely holding onto the apparition of her kindness and patience. “Look, I’m pretty sure we came here to save people, and I already don’t even know why we need drugs or party cannons, and now you are going to—”

“And now I will be dividing us up to make things more efficient, you know? Drugs are more useful on Joshua’s hands. Party cannons and BB guns, well, you can use them as a weapon if you are confident enough for that.” With that, Hanekoma releases another bout of laughter, a sound that Neku and Shiki are starting to grow bile at the base of their stomachs for. “There, there, I understand your doubts, but you have to put some faith in me. After all, I was the one who could figure out things you didn’t previously know. I’m not a reckless adrenaline junkie just looking for a fix in dangerous situations.”

Shiki shoots a nervous glance at Neku, her face all scrunched up from indecision and the tremors rolling off her back like waves. 

“It… it was true though,” Shiki blanches, and Neku could see the way her heart skips a beat in the confused lights of her eyes. “Even before you phoned me earlier, Hanekoma was able to tell the full details of Rhyme’s kidnapping… Despite how suspicious he’s been acting so far, it’s true he seems to know what is happening the best.”

Shiki grinds her teeth hard, and Neku cringes from seeing that, from almost feeling the phantom pain of her nearly drawing blood from her tongue. “But, but knowing things isn’t equivalent to being a trustworthy ally! He’s proven to us multiple times in just these few hours that he’s treating our lives and Rhyme’s life and everything like a damn joke!”

“Shiki, look,” Neku puts his hands on Shiki’s shoulders, which draw out a tensed reaction from her before she relaxes a little, albeit still with a perplexed expression tensing up the lines around her cheeks. “What’s happening right now is bad, but you and I alone can’t do this. You know it’s true, no matter how optimistic you are about the prospects of us saving Rhyme is, there’s no denying we are still way too young and fragile to be able to break them out from a gang of people with EOs we don’t know anything about. Our best bet is with them, no matter how much we detest them.”

Somewhere from the pipes up above, Joshua’s voice rains down. “Wow! I haven’t been moved by a speech like that in ages! Thanks for the vote of confidence!”

“It’s not actually for you!” Neku retorts to the heavens, spending about only fractions of a second to consider _why the fuck is he climbing up pipes,_ then turns back to Shiki, who seems a bit more defeated and sullen now. “So, what do you say? Do we go on?”

Initially, Shiki lowers her head, making her expression muddied and unreadable. Neku is starting to assume that everything is going to fall apart at the seams right now, when eventually she raises her head and rubs her eyes hard, then breathes out. “Fine. Let’s just get to it.”

⸶

Though he watches the proceedings of below with much mirth, the drugs in his bag still drag down on his guts like a truckload of leads.

Joshua shakes his head and looks back up, back up where he needs to keep climbing, one and two and three more windows passing him by. For a back street that was only meant to have a park and one empty, perpetually ‘For Rent’ store, these in-construction shopping arcades and the nearby private estates just don’t quite cut it for being a part of Udagawa. 

If he is in an any better mood he’d feel tempted to make a joke about this, the audacity of this supposedly gang-slash-organization of unidentified number of EOs and associates kidnapping EOs to a shoddily-built skeleton of a shopping arcade, of a private estate with lead pipes lining along it that already smell of rust of old ages. 

But now is no time for any humour. 

Breaking his way through one of the windows on the fourth floor, Joshua allows himself a second to breathe, then gazes back out. The private estate is built in a location that, thankfully, can afford the full view of the shopping arcade construction site. Inside its hollow skeleton, a group of black-clothed people stand guard to what seems like a group of hostages. Not too surprising; based on what Hanekoma has told him once, this notorious ‘EO Alliance’ trails its infamy as a loose group of EOs and normal people who know EOs combining their feeble forces against the many scientific agencies hunting down EOs for their gains and researches. 

Right now though, one of the black-clothed EO ‘ally’ seems to be conversing with one of the hostages, and if his eyesight isn’t failing him then that black beanie should pin the hostage down as Rhyme themself. Conversing with a hostage? If he’s not seeing things wrong, perhaps it is true what Sanae said about what they are doing behind the scenes.

No matter. Now all he has to do is sit here, enjoy the view, observe everything that is going to happen and wait for the chance to intervene. Joshua clutches the bottle of sleeping pills and lets every doomed thought rise from his skin, waiting for the chance for release.

⸶

At first, it’s not quite apparent to either of them what will happen right after Hanekoma takes them into the barely-finished shopping arcade— Neku notes with jealousy the speed by which Hanekoma manages to break the lock— within which is, after all, allegedly where the EO Alliance is located. Hanekoma still has that shit-eating easy-going grin, and the tremors raging through Neku and Shiki’s skin have never ceased. 

Shiki stares into the dark damp corners of the site and turns back to Neku. “So… about that arrangement, do you see now how pointless it is?”

“Of course I do. After all, I’m forced to cooperate with Joshua and his probably-friend Hanekoma for some reasons.”

Shiki grips her bag tighter, fingers digging into the fabrics of the strap. “When I changed locations just now… It was because I met Beat earlier in Miyashita Park.”

“What?”

“I was heading to the Underpass as you asked, and from where I was originally the closest I could be is there… and I have to pass by the Park itself. 

“Beat was skateboarding there when I passed by. I nearly slip on what happened… I even asked him if he wants to know where Rhyme is, and my heart’s close to a heart attack because why the hell did I ask him that, when this is the topic I should avoid right now?” Shiki holds her forehead with a hand, her breaths becoming shallower as she goes on. “I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve been honest to Beat that Rhyme is in danger… but at the time I just couldn’t do it. I don’t think I can do it even now, when we have a chance to save them.”

Neku looks at Shiki’s face of regret as she speaks, and, perhaps from both instincts or an urge to act out in the face of the dangers waiting for them, a laugh erupts from his lungs.

Shiki’s face colours in an instant, her hands already balling into fists. “Hey! What are you laughing about! This isn’t funny!”

“No, I just… I just didn’t… you know what, gimme a sec,” Neku takes in another deep breath, and turns back to Shiki, who is still fuming. “It’s just… it’s refreshing to see you admit you aren’t a perfect friend.”

“Huh?”

“How should I put it… it just feels, reassuring? To hear you admit your faults in how you treat your friends,” Neku takes a peek of Shiki’s countenance, searching in the lines of her cheeks if he has stepped on any landmine again. He didn’t. “Of course I’m not saying like, you are some perfect angel who can naturally make no mistakes or anything, it was just… I feel like I’m seeing more of the real you at last.”

The red flush in Shiki’s cheeks gradually recedes, replaced by emotional exhaustion in the slump of her shoulders. “No duh… I’m going to make mistakes, Neku. I’m going to make many of them. Even you, even Joshua, even pretty much everyone else will. Hell, I still don’t know why the hell we can entrust this problem with these two, and maybe that is already a mistake we are making.”

“Well, you aren’t exactly—” 

“And that’s why we have friends.” Shiki springs across a small boulder and turns back to Neku, with a small smile on her face. “As friends, we endure problems with each other. We stay with each other. We become the pillars of support each of us needs.”

“... That’s a lot of pretty words.”

“I can say more if you—”

“Look, it’s sweet you two are bonding right now, but we don’t have time.”

Neku and Shiki turn back to their front. Of course, there will be no time for them at all to consider doing normal friendly things with each other. They still have Rhyme to save. They still have bad guys to beat.

Hanekoma ups his walking speed and Neku finds himself walking faster in response, eyes fixed on the black-clad gangster-like posse up ahead. One spots an orange mohawk with the posture of what seems to be the leader, though Neku would consider the far more gigantic person next to him far more intimidating and far larger of a threat. 

Mohawk speaks up first of them all. “There, there, lassie, didn’t we tell you to come along all by yourself only?”

Shiki grits her teeth. “Well… How do you expect me to trust strangers who just kidnapped my friend?”

Mohawk shrugs. “Fair enough.” 

He approaches the trio, an uncomfortably (for Neku) comfortable (for him) swagger to his steps as he stops right in front of Hanekoma. Both parties hold a grin that Neku hopes he never has to see face to face again. 

“Been some time since we met, Sanae.”

“Fancy meeting you here, Mohawk.”

Mohawk cracks an even bigger grin, and Neku catches himself almost feeling concern for his facial muscles before realizing that he’s been simply addressed as ‘Mohawk’. “Remind me, how long has it been since you rejected our proposals for alliance? Remember all the honourable things you told us about why you rejected being a part of our family?”

“Of course I do remember! I remember every wicked sweet thing you lied about.” Hanekoma paces around Mohawk, his hand still tucked beneath his chin casually. For whatever possible reasons, the goons behind Mohawk seem to be quivering. “How joining you would mean that I will never ever have to worry about any government agencies or mad scientists wanting to hunt me down, how no danger will ever come to me again.” Hanekoma turns abruptly back to Mohawk. “But I think even now I’ll be telling you the same thing— I don’t need that.”

“Hmm, maybe you don’t need that, but how about we hear from that pink lassie over there?” Mohawk side-steps away from Hanekoma and rapidly saunters his way right in front of Shiki.

Neku steps up to Shiki’s right. Half-consciously.

“Oh? Your little boyfriend has a different opinion?”

Shiki shakes her flushed face. “No! And don’t tell us weird things like this. You told me you’d release Rhyme as long as I’ve come here, so why don’t you release them already?”

“That’s true, though I confess if my memory isn’t rotten just yet I recall requesting you to come along by yourself.” Mohawk circles Shiki, and Shiki raises her fists. 

Mohawk raises his head back towards Hanekoma. “No matter though, now that you are all here, and I see that you have all brought yourself yet another valuable EO ally there, aren’t you?”

Neku feels his shoulders tense, embarrassingly. “You can release our friend over there, and we will leave you alone.”

Mohawk laughs. It is a horrible sound, the hoarse and grating laughter that could only belong to a crooked man, like rapping stones against stones. “You leaving us alone? I think I will do you three a solid and remind you who is in the majority here.”

“Most of the majority you speak of also quiver just for staying here in a darkened cold construction site, but I digress.” 

“What can I say, this is quite cold for a hideout.” 

Neku watches Mohawk and Hanekoma continue to circle each other like prey and predator, except he doesn’t know which is which and it’s driving his heart through hurdles after hurdles. 

“... What exactly do you want from us?”

Mohawk turns his sunglasses glare towards Neku. “Huh?”

“You continue speaking of an alliance between all of us EOs, but you never try to communicate with Shiki and me regarding the prospects of that. Or did you think Hanekoma, who continues to reject your offer, is still a viable option?” Neku crosses his arms and puffs up his chest for good measures. “Really, for EOs who want to propose alliances to stand against those mad scientists out there, it doesn’t look like you guys have a lot of brains in there.”

A small gasp encompasses the premise from the gang’s side. 

Shiki establishes a painful grip on Neku’s left cheek and pulls. “I’m sorry Neku? Remind me again what we are trying to accomplish here again? 

“Let, let me explain,” Neku whispers back through his throbbingly painful left cheek. “I’m just bluffing. Can’t you see those two are in a stalemate there? If we don’t do anything, we probably won’t get anything done until to—”

“I like your resolve there, boy.”

Neku and Shiki startle. They turn back towards the gang, from which that abnormally gigantic man Neku noted of earlier walks out from the ring, and he faces down Neku himself.

“I shall talk with you, and you alone, about exactly what kind of heavenly favours we are doing for you and your little friends here.”

⸸

Joshua feels his teeth threateningly glide over the sleeping pill. 

Any more pressure and he could initiate it, the start of a new era, the beginning of yet another round of nothingness. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? 

Except… Of course, that isn’t what he wants. At least he thinks so. One of these days, it gets rather difficult to crunch his ideas and thoughts through his coagulated synapses.

Joshua looks out of the window again and, despite the slim to nonexistent chances, he finds himself attempting to make contact with those blue eyes again.

Perhaps that is the kind of mistake he’s doomed to make forever. To pursue this sempiternal contrariety, though he will only have a chance to see if that stands true should he find himself on the other side of the—

“Ah, so you are mission control again?”

A scalpelled panic surges inside his sinews and Joshua finds himself smiling again. “Sho, I thought you have finally agreed not to sneak up on me like that. Honestly, I don’t think you would find the scene pretty if I have accidentally swallowed the pill or bite off my tongue, you know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> joshua's power will be revealed next chapter! tho i'd say that in this chapter i have already pretty much baldly said what it is. to those of you who guessed right, congrats! (tho w/ that said i will still neither confirm nor deny until the next chapter explicitly states it :3c so technically it's all of ur last chance to guess what it is. have fun!)
> 
> w/ the next chapter, these first 8 chapters will mark down the first part of this au. i'd like to think the au has at least 3 parts, tho whatever i have for part 3 is still quite fuzzy so i can't say for sure... with that said, i hope you have all been enjoying what i have so far! i'm rly glad u guys like this little story i tell. love u all!!
> 
> as usual, comments and kudos are appreciated!!


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